Ghost of an Unsung Requiem
by POTOF
Summary: Is the man that Anisette sacrificed everything for still the same person she once knew, or has he become a ghost of his own unsung requiem, a bitter soul living in a world it was meant to have left behind...? A mix of Leroux, Kay, and my own twist. There will soon be a sequel called 'Reaching for the Light'.
1. The Book

* The main character basically looks like Meg from the 2004 movie; medium height, poker-straight blonde hair, brown eyes, pale skin. She looks a bit older in the face b/c I think Meg looked overly young in the movie. *

**The Book**

It started out like any other day. My hands tapped the steering wheel of my car in time to the music blasting from the speakers. How long had it been since I had driven down this road? Too long, that was for sure. As the song playing came to a close, a smile slowly spread over my face. A mixed CD of my favorite songs was being played as I drove. Have I mentioned that music is my life? When I found out that I had been stuck once again into the next lowest choir at my school, my soul cried out in anguish. I knew exactly why I was still being placed there, and the reason grated against my heart every day. There were two problems with my performance at auditions, lack of confidence and coordination. In other words, my auditions were all disasters. I sighed and frowned. Why was I thinking about depressing things? This was a happy day! I was 18, my insecurities about my appearance had finally started to vanish, and I was going to one of my favorite places in the world, a bookstore.

The first chords of the next song blasted all other thoughts away. If anything could make me happy, it was the Overture to Phantom of the Opera. Resisting the urge to close my eyes, I hummed along. The Phantom is my obsession. Some of my friends make the mistake of saying that my obsession is with Phantom of the Opera, referring to the entire story as a whole. This is only partially true. I do love the story, but my interests lie only with Erik. Everyone else in the story can crawl off into a corner and die, that would be fine with me. In Christine's case, that would be VERY fine. If you are familiar with the story, which you obviously are, then you should know why I dislike Christine. But anyway, back to Erik. Although we had never met, I felt close to him from the start. I was able to understand the concept of feeling alone in the world. Despite my age, I had never had a boyfriend. My parents always said not to worry, that I was still quite young. My face and actions spoke of youth, but in my heart I felt old.

Throughout my life, I had been subjected to a lot of emotional turmoil. The worst had been the death of my beloved grandmother, taken from me when I was twelve by terminal brain cancer. She had raised me to age six, when my aunt and uncle adopted me. I still saw my mother at times, though my father was a different matter. He halfway made attempts to stay in my life, but he was a stranger to me. I won't even discuss my half-brothers, half-sister, and manipulative grandmother (the mother of my father). The only person from that mess that I keep in touch with is my mother, against whom I hold no grudges. As I said, my aunt and uncle became my mom and dad, and the branches of their families are now familiar to me as well. Ah, again with depressing topics. I do that a lot. My friends say that I can often be quite the downer.

The death grip that I had taken on the wheel relaxed as I parked the car and shut it off. It was Saturday, and I had chosen to spend the blessed hours of that day shopping. No, not clothes shopping, I hate that. Book shopping! I was at my favorite bookstore, and the printed pages called to me seductively. If I had any weakness besides my feelings for Erik, it was the lure of a good book. You would hardly ever see me in the non-fiction section. The real world was simply too dull to hold my interest. I got enough of the real world at school. A few weeks ago, I had called in to the bookstore and ordered a few selections that were currently out of print. The store had called back to say that my order was in, so now I was going to pick them up. Before I picked up my books and returned home, I couldn't resist peeking at the titles on the shelves. So went the next few hours.

"Miss?" a voice called from behind me.

I turned to see a young man looking at me guiltily. What could he possibly want?

"I'm sorry to interrupt you," he said with a gentle smile, "but we have to close now."

Close? I looked out a window and saw the moon shining, a thousand stars dancing round her. Glancing down at my watch, I saw that it was almost midnight. The store's closing time was eleven. Blood rushed to my face as I realized that the man had kept the shop running for my sake.

I muttered my apologies and took my books to the register. The man checked me out with a smile. He didn't appear to be angry, which was a relief. The last thing that I wanted was to be banned from one of my places of refuge. For some reason, I sensed that he understood. Would my parents? I hadn't planned to be gone nearly so long, and they would no doubt be getting worried. A simple phone call could solve that problem. What really poked and prodded at the back of my mind was the image of a backpack on my bed, waiting. Homework wouldn't have been such an unpleasant idea, except that I had other plans for tomorrow. For one, there was the small stack of books being placed into the plastic bag before me. How could I concentrate on Government and AP European History when books offered worlds with different rules and more intriguing histories? Regardless of how unappealing the idea was, the books would have to wait. Then there were my stories. I took pride in being the author of several Phantom of the Opera fan-fictions. I always paired Erik with a young woman more understanding and loyal than Christine. My stories had been a bit neglected lately, as my senior year of high school demanded most of my attention. I worked fairly hard to keep my grades up, and always did my homework. This year was my last chance, and the first trimester was quickly coming to a close.

On top of that, I had a choir concert coming up that next week. Rehearsals were Monday and Tuesday from six to ten, and the concerts were Wednesday and Thursday from six to nine-thirty. Well, the actual concert started at seven-thirty, but we had to be there at six for warm-ups and attendances, which had to be completed before the audience could be admitted to the auditorium. My friends and I had several names for concert weeks, most of which were a bit obscene. The tamest of these was Hell Week, the name invented by our chorus director. These weeks were very fun, but also very stressful. Concert nights were often easier than rehearsals because members of the chorus went home earlier, but it was still hard on my sleeping schedule. I loved sleeping, and falling asleep at twelve only to wake up at six was not my idea of fun.

I zoomed back to the present as I saw the man put an unfamiliar book into the bag.

"Excuse me," I said quickly, "but I don't think that's mine."

He looked up at me with a strange sparkle in his eye.

"Consider it a gift." he said softly.

I wasn't about to protest. Who wouldn't want a free book?!? So, I walked happily out to the car. Curiosity got the best of me, and I took the unknown book out of the bag before putting my purchases in the trunk. The cover was old and worn leather, looking sloppily put together. Flipping through, I saw that most of the pages were slightly discolored from what I guessed to be age. Every page was blank except for the first, which had a short, hastily written entry. At a quick glance, I saw it was a journal entry.

'Who would go to the trouble of making a book just to write a single entry?' I thought.

I threw the old thing through the open window and into the back seat. The rest of the books, still in the bag, were placed lovingly into the trunk. Looking back at the store, I saw the young man looking at me. He was chuckling to himself. My face went red and I slammed the trunk lid. So, it was time to make a joke out of the bookworm, was it? Fine. I had better things to do with my time than stand in a deserted parking lot. Which was starting to get really creepy.

'Just get in the gosh darn car already.' I said, annoyed with myself for being momentarily afraid.

As soon as my legs were in the car, I shut the door and locked myself in. What was WRONG with me?!? I loved the dark! Well, at least I had ever since watching Phantom of the Opera at a sleepover with my friends.

Home. The driveway acted as a welcome mat to my eyes. The flow of anger came almost as soon as I got through the door. My parents were very upset, taking away my keys and my electronic privileges. I tried to keep the books that I had purchased hidden from view, but it was no use. The bound treasures were taken from my hands in what seemed like slow motion, and then rushed into a closet. Dejected, I trudged back outside to retrieve my jacket from the car. If my car were to be off limits tomorrow, then I would at least have my letter jacket to keep me warm enough for a stroll around the neighborhood. I picked up my jacket and heard something drop. Looking in the floorboards, I saw the old empty journal lying there. It was in a bad position for a book, opened and face down. Taking pity on the useless thing, I gently lifted it up and smoothed the pages back into place. Perhaps I could spend part of the day tomorrow filling it with words. The journal survived my mother's inspection and I went upstairs to prepare for bed.

Ahh. My room…my place of peace and isolation. The night was warm, so I skipped the idea of pajamas and substituted shorts and a loose t-shirt. Comfort was the main goal of my wardrobe, even on weekdays. I never saw the point in wearing uncomfortable clothing just to fit in with the crowd. If I changed my clothes, people would find something wrong with my personality. If I changed my personality, then I wouldn't be myself anymore. I know this because I have tried it before, only to be unhappier than I was before. Since then, I have found immense comfort in seeking the friendship of the other outcasts of society. It doesn't matter to me what other people think of you. Acceptance of others has never been a problem for me. Being accepted…that's a different matter.

I flipped off the light and slid quietly into bed. A few minutes went by as I tossed and turned. Finally, I gave up on trying to sleep. By the dim light of my alarm clock, I began to read the small entry written in ink in the journal.

To Whomever It May Concern…no, simply…To Whomever:

I think I may be bleeding within this time. Father's blows were harder than usual because he is intoxicated tonight. Mother is weeping softly in her room, praying that no one will hear. Another grievance of this night is that I now realize that my presence has been a burden to her from the time of my birth. This knowledge has been sitting in the back of my mind for as long as I can recall. I am not one to deny the truth in exchange for happiness. What is happiness? Have I ever known such an emotion? The closest I have come to a feeling of joy is the relief that comes when the night comes, hiding me from prying eyes and flying fists. I save the darkest news for last. Father has finally found a way to dispose of me. Unbeknownst to him, I watched and listened as he exchanged my freedom (limited as it is to this lone domain) for naught but a few francs. The ecstasy on his face at that moment did not come as a surprise, as my body is constantly bruised as proof of his disgust. Ahh, I hear them coming even now. Perhaps writing down the pains that come will help to ease this sharp feeling of desolation and seclusion. No living soul has and I fear never shall take pity upon me. I blame them not, for if it were I in their place, I would not hesitate to cast the first stone. Wretched as I am, I cannot help but hope to be wrong. Hopes of a friendly hand reaching through the darkness haunt my dreams, but my hopes slowly turn into a bitter mockery. Any dream that a human being has the natural right to have has been denied me. I am a fighter by nature, and my body will not give way to death, however hard I may try to goad father into delivering it unto me. No, release will not come that easily. But I shall go to meet my captors now. They will not come upon me bent over in pain, but standing tall, ready to face my fate.

-E.D. 1841

I stared at the page for a moment, picturing the poor boy that had written it. He was yet another lonely soul with no friendly voice to call his name. Putting the book on the nightstand beside my bed, I rolled over onto my side to sleep. I closed my eyes and allowed my brain to once again fool itself into thinking that I was in Erik's arms. Just before I slipped into a deep slumber, a whisper brushed against my mind. The voice was inaudible, but felt smooth and calming. It spoke no words, but yet left a feeling of longing and anticipation. The voice was both strange to me and yet comfortingly familiar, as if I'd always known it. Stronger than ever before, one name, whispered in passion, passed my lips before sleep took me.

"Erik…"


	2. Connecting

*The spacing is to make the conversations easier to read. The person who is writing will have their initial before the '-'. You'll see what I mean further down. This is all really just a set up for the real story, so bear with me if things get a bit 'who cares?'.*

I hate Mondays. Since this is my motto, I walked into school that Monday with only a little bit of hope for a good day. But why bore you with the details of that day when it was the same as any other? The true excitement came later that evening with choir rehearsal. I positioned myself daintily in a chair located at the back of the room and surveyed the surrounding chaos with a half-amused smile. It was always interesting to see the bubbly freshmen flouncing around at their first performance. Not that I was immune to the excitement mind you, but being the only senior in the room put a tiny bit of a damper on my joy. There was an hour to waste before the show began, so I reached into my purse and pulled out my favorite instrument of pleasure. Music soon blasted in my ears and my body and mind relaxed as I slipped into reflective mode. I had decided to bring the old journal with me, so I opened it up and stared at the sole entry for a minute. Should I just throw the whole thing into the trash, or could I still follow the original plan and fill it with words from my own mind? The meaning of E.D.'s entry sent chills up and down my spine. I furrowed my brow and poured my feelings onto the page.

Dear Diary,

Ugh. I hate it when people write that! I really need to think of a better heading. One shouldn't sound like a six-year-old girl when writing down their thoughts. So many questions are running through my mind. The entry on the opposite page sparks my curiosity but also sends a strange feeling of fear through me. Who was the unknown writer? What became of him? But most of all, why do the writer's initials have to be the same as Erik's? As far as my brain is concerned E.D. means Erik Destler regardless of how small the odds are of it being him. Do I even want to know the answers to all of my questions? Yes, I do. To see a glimpse of someone's life when he or she is in need of a friend hurts me. I want so much to help the poor soul, but I cannot. Why am I stuck here in the present with no connection to any of the outstretched hands here OR in the past?!? Fate is so very cruel to those with a soft and compassionate heart. Hence the longing I feel for the man I've never met…Erik. And now to paste on a cheesy fake smile and go sing for all the people out in the audience. For once I find myself glad that Erik is not here and cannot see me now. He would turn his head in shame at my uselessness…if he cared at all.

-A.R. 2009

After the concert was finished I flopped onto my bed in exhaustion and closed my eyes. The light was still on and it was shining through my eyelids like the spotlights that I had been under previously. All I wanted to do was sleep the night away and not even go to school the next morning. I sighed in defeat and got up to turn the light off so that it wouldn't keep me awake. As I was on my way back to bed I felt something brush against my foot. The next sensation that I felt was that of falling forward in the darkness. When I investigated the object wrapped around my foot, I saw that I had tripped over my purse. The contents that had previously been safely tucked inside of my purse were now all over the floor. Most of the spilled items were small and I was able to quickly scoop them back inside without much trouble. I felt around blindly for the journal and began to panic when I couldn't find it.

'Maybe it slipped under the bed!' I thought.

When I couldn't find it down there either I started to pull myself back out. My head hit the edge of the bed with a thump and I cursed softly. As I sat back onto the floor rubbing my head, I felt something touch my leg. The journal! My arm thrust out to get it but slowed as I remembered how old the poor thing was.

I slipped into bed and opened it to write about the events of the day. The pen in my hand froze over the previously blank page as I saw that something had been written there.

? -Hello?

For a moment I was angry, thinking that some impudent young freshmen had taken it upon herself to vandalize my property. The anger died down as quickly as it had arisen when I recognized the handwriting from the previous page. Was I going mad? I was certain that the page that I now stared at had been blank before, and the thought of someone in the past responding to my entry was altogether preposterous. And yet…

A -Is someone there?

I wrote quickly as if someone were watching me and to have the embarrassing act over and done with. My first impulse was to slam the book shut and hurl it across the room, but something caused me to look down at it once more.

? -Who are you?

I gently touched the place where I had bumped my head (perhaps a bit harder than I had thought?).

A -My name is Anisette Rousseau. And you?

? -I do not give my name to beings that do not exist.

How absurd! I jumped in shock at my thoughts, thinking that perhaps I had truly caused some unknown injury to my brain. The current situation was impossible, but still I replied.

A -The fact that you reply tells me that you do not believe your own words, thereby making your claim tenuous.

? -Your logic seems sound, but the implication is completely unfeasible. And then there is your pretended ignorance. You already know my identity, though by what means I cannot deduce.

A -What do you mean? How can I know anything of you when you keep yourself hidden in constant shadows of confusion and mistrust?

The flow of words on the page ceased for a minute and I suddenly felt a tingling sensation creep up my spine.

? -In your written thoughts you mentioned a man named Erik Destler…where did you learn that name?

A -Are you he?

I held my breath and closed my eyes as I waited for an answer to the desires of my heart.

? -If I were, of what importance would it be to you?

For an entire minute I actually forgot how to breathe.

A -Of great importance. And as to how I learned about Erik, many people know

his story here in the future. I happen to be one of the few who believe it to be true and who cares more than she probably should.

? -What do you think that you know about Erik?

A -If you are not he then it is none of your business. If you are he, then I might be quite pleased to let you make your own impression upon me.

? -Why are you so interested in the Phantom? He is a monster that should be destroyed.

A -Hold your tongue sir!

? -For what reason?

A -You say he is a monster but I see him as a lost soul in need of understanding. If you truly think him a monster then you know nothing of what lies within his heart.

? -One should be able to tell what is in their own heart.

I smiled at the pause from the other end of the conversation. I could almost hear him softly curse himself.

A -So it is you. Now that wasn't so hard, was it? Since we have that settled, perhaps you might enlighten me on how this whole conversation is possible…

If anyone would know the answer to that question, it would be Erik.

E -Why do you think that I would know the answer to that?

A -Because you are a genius and a magician. If you don't know how this works, then who does?

E -Perhaps the person who gave you the book would know the answer, but I do not.

A -Oh well. What does it truly matter? The point is that we can converse. There were so many questions that I had, always at the tip of my tongue. Now that I have the chance to ask them, not a single one comes to mind. All I can think of is how wonderful it is to finally have access to you.

E -What all do you know about me, and why am I of such interest to you?

A -A bit paranoid, aren't we? I guess I should have expected as much, after all you've been through. Or have you been through it yet? I suppose since the only entry here is from your childhood, that you could possibly still be young. Or am I being presumptuous? Perhaps you have not written as often as you intended. Anyway, to answer your question, I'm interested in you because…well…I don't know really. I would say that I am sympathetic toward you, but that doesn't even begin to cover what I feel. How much do I know about you? Hmm…I don't want to tell you anything that hasn't already happened.

E -I cannot fathom my life becoming any more miserable than it already is.

A -Okay. Let me be specific. How old are you?

E -Approximately twelve years old. I cannot be sure. My birth was never celebrated.

A -Two years older then. Time must pass differently there than it does here. Where are you?

E -Exactly where, I haven't the slightest idea. The language being used suggests somewhere near Spain.

A -The gypsies still have you?

He didn't even pause to consider how I knew. He just wrote.

E -Yes.

A -Is it bad, Erik? Do they truly treat you the way I've heard that they did?

E -Are you referring to the fact that they beat me and parade my deformed face in front of everyone? But perhaps you did not know that I was born a demon…the Devil's Child…

A -Erik, don't. I knew about your deformity long before I read your entry. The fact that you don't look like everyone else doesn't make you evil.

E -You would not say that if you saw. Such a deformity cannot possibly be skin deep. It blackens the soul.

A -I'm so sorry that you think that. I wish there were something I could do to help get you out of there, to change the way you view yourself.

E -I fear the only release from those things will come with death. Perhaps they will one day beat me too hard…

A sob escaped and I covered my mouth. I couldn't take much more of that sort of talk from him.

E -What's that?

He drew an arrow to a damp spot on the page. One of my tears had landed there. The sight only made me cry harder.

E -Are you

He paused, as if in disbelief.

E -Are you crying?

A -I would do anything if I could get you out of that place, Erik. Anything.

E -No one has ever cried for me. Cried because of me, yes, but never for me.

There was silence across the page, and I gasped as a stain appeared. He was crying too.

E -I must go. My keeper is coming.

A -Stay strong, Erik.

E -I shall try.

I stared at the pages for a while, not moving. It seemed like minutes later that the sun shone through my blinds. This was going to be harder than I thought.

The next few days were the same. I sat with the journal open as I did my homework, watching for any sign of him. Once in a while he would write a greeting, and we would chat. He began to ask questions about me, and so I told him everything he wanted to know. I described my appearance to him and my daily life. Erik, being Erik, was most interested in choir. The more we talked, the more relaxed he seemed to become. I should have known that the pleasant turn things had taken wouldn't last. I didn't hear from him all throughout the day Tuesday, which made me concerned. Erik always wrote. He had written a few times Sunday night, and then many times the day before. I surmised that the reason for his only writing at night Sunday had to do with the schedule that the gypsies kept. He had told me Monday that they were on the move again. I prayed that that would give him relief, if only for a few hours. But what about now? Why was he suddenly so silent? I crawled into bed that night with my eyes wide open. There was no way that I could sleep until I heard from him.

E -Anisette?

A -I'm here Erik.

E -Good.

Relief flooded through me at the sight of my name having appeared on the page, only to freeze. His handwriting was unnaturally shaky, but maybe that was just a trick of the dim lighting.

A -Are you all right?

E -Why do you ask?

A -Your handwriting seems off.

E -The lighting in here is poor, that's all.

I would have believed him, had I not spotted a new stain on the page. It was red.

A -Erik, what happened? Where are you bleeding from?

E -I feel dizzy

The two words were sloppily written and seemed to be only part of a thought. Panic scrambled my brain. What could I do?!? That thought blurred as I was overtaken by a wave of exhaustion. I slept.


	3. Dreams

I awoke confusedly. It was dark and eerily quiet throughout the house. Objects around me were blurry, and my movements seemed dramatically slow. Realizing that I must have been dreaming, I curiously walked down the stairs. There was no light, but the long mirror that was outside of the bathroom clearly emitted a bright silver glow. I walked up to it and touched the surface gently. It slowly began to ripple like a portal in a videogame, but that was far from being the strangest thing about it. As soon as I touched the surface, a cry rang out from the mirror and echoed in my ears. I pulled back, frightened of this discovery. Once my contact with the mirror broke, the voice vanished. I turned to go back to my room, but I just couldn't. Someone needed help, and I was fairly sure that I could give it to him. All I had to do was go through the mirror…but what then? For all I knew, once I entered the realm within the mirror, I could never come back! Yes I could. But what if the person didn't even _want_ my help? Of course he did! Why would the person have cried out if they didn't want help? Pain could have caused it, and not all pain that causes a verbal response indicates abuse. But would the person have cried out in that tone from a simple scratch? No, he wouldn't. I hesitantly touched the mirror once more, just to see if any noises would come from it this time.

"Anisette…"

The voice was unfamiliar to me, but my heart and soul knew exactly who it was. Erik.

I jumped through the mirror and ended up in a room filled with darkness. No, that's not right. It wasn't even a room, just empty space composed of nothingness. I heard a groan from behind me, and I turned. Erik was lying there (how can you lie on nothingness?) blinking his eyes and trying to sit up. I knelt beside him and helped him lean against me when he found that sitting up wasn't going to happen.

"Who's there?"

He was trying to snap at me, but his voice really made it sound more like a tired whine. The mask over his face showed nothing but his eyes, and the lack of light caused them to shine yellow, like a cat's, only much creepier. He was without a shirt, shoes, or even socks. His bare body was dirty and unhealthily thin, the ribs and spine poking at the surface of his skin from malnutrition. Every inch of him seemed to be covered with bruises and scars from being beaten so very often. Worse still were the red sores that could be found on any part of his body, most likely due to the terrible living conditions he was subjected to.

"It's all right," I said softly, "my name is Anisette. I'm here to help you."

"Anisette?"

He weakly tried to look up at me, but slumped back into the leaning position with a groan. I took his hand and squeezed it gently. Voices began to drift toward us, and I listened to see if I could recognize any of them. It didn't take me long to figure out that the voices were not from my world. They laughed and shouted names, many of them slurring their words together from too much drink. Erik placed his hands over his ears.

"Make them stop."

His plea was tired and had no fight to it at all. Tears welled up in his eyes and I could see that he was trying to blink them away. I held him close to me and shouted into the darkness.

"Stop it! Haven't you tortured him enough? Just stop!"

Tears were running down my own face as I comforted the boy who would soon grow into the man I loved so dearly.

The voices faded into silence and Erik wrapped his arms around my waist, clinging to me in desperation and fear as a bright light replaced the darkness around us. I held him for a while longer, then slowly pulled back. His eyes followed my hand as I reached for the mask, and he cringed and threw up his arms in front of his face when he realized what I was going to do.

"Don't…" he said weakly.

I paused momentarily, and then decided against it. The mystery of what truly lie behind the mask was not as important as building Erik's trust in me. The poor dear had already been in tears once; why then should I be so cruel as to prod at his darkest fear?

Then suddenly, our hands touched. Erik inhaled sharply, but did not recoil. No doubt he expected me to be disturbed by the mere presence of his hand on mine, but I just smiled slightly at him and slowly intertwined our fingers. Oh how he stared! What I found strange was the fact that his skin was _warm_. Hadn't the book said that his touch was like that of Death himself? They were very boney, yes, but not necessarily repulsive.

'Perhaps the color and feel of his skin will come from his many years underground.' I thought.

Then reality came crashing in, and things got slightly awkward for a moment. I had just then realized that I was holding hands with a twelve-year-old. But why should that matter, when it was _Erik's_ hand I was holding? It wasn't like we were doing anything inappropriate! The mere thought of flirting with Erik when he was at that young an age filled me with disgust. I was here to comfort the poor darling, not become his girlfriend! That could wait 'till later. I laughed inwardly. The thought of me flirting with anyone was completely ridiculous. I hardly ever flirted, and I doubted that Erik would take the gesture well. If we were to be together someday, small flirtatious actions would come naturally later on. Conscious flirting had the tendency to make most people look like complete idiots, and I was certainly not an idiot.

Regardless of the terror that his appearance seemed to evoke from others, I found that my attention was drawn to several handsome features that Erik possessed. His eyes were a lovely emerald green in the light, and his hair was dark brown, like chocolate. My cheeks flushed with heat as I realized that he was studying me as well. I didn't dare ask what he was thinking as his eyes went from studying me as a whole to staring deep into my eyes. The look he was giving me was not scrutinizing, but curious, filled with a thousand unasked questions. What I couldn't understand was why he was so interested in my physical appearance. I wasn't really all that pretty, and I'd already described myself to him via the diary; straight blonde hair, brown eyes, pale skin, and medium height… not very extraordinary. Once again the urge to take the mask off of Erik's face grew strong within me, and I had to momentarily force my hand back down to my side. For years I had criticized Christine for taking it off without his permission, but found I could understand the fascination she felt at the mystery of Erik's face. I knew approximately what it would probably look like, but STILL, the knowledge that I was being denied what would normally be seen as a common courtesy nagged at me.

"It truly bothers you, doesn't it?" he asked quietly.

I jumped in surprise and felt blood rush to my face. For a brief moment, I had completely zoned out, caught up in the torrent of thoughts swirling in my mind.

"Even you, who already knows what it hides, cannot resist the temptation to look."

Anger flooded his features, and he leapt to his feet.

"So be it! I am not one to withhold such a strong desire…I haven't the strength. Come, look upon the face of the damned!"

The look on his face changed to one of strange excitement, and he beckoned me closer as he walked slowly backward.

"Why do you hesitate, Mademoiselle? Come! An once in a lifetime opportunity, and for only a few francs!"

I got up slowly, fear creeping into my heart. A look of insanity had filled Erik's beautiful eyes. Darkness took over the light, and the suffocating heat of summer combined with the smell of sweat and manure threatened to choke me. The screams and laughter from before filled the air once more. People of all different ages materialized around me and began pushing forward, toward a tent.

"Yes, that's it!" Erik continued with fervor, "Don't forget to bring your children, ladies and gentlemen! Unlimited spoiled vegetables and sharp stones wait inside for them to throw at the creature! An attraction for the whole family to enjoy! Not too close though, it bites…"

I looked around, but Erik was nowhere to be seen. His voice had faded and disappeared, and the only thing I could do was follow the pushing crowd into the tent. No one had to tell me where I was, but how did I get there? Soon the entire crowd was inside, and a gypsy stepped forward. He was so close that I could smell the alcohol on his breath, but I wasn't looking at the gypsy. My mouth dropped open in horror as I stared at the being in cage behind him. I silently worked my way around to the side of the cage no one was standing on, which was the side Erik was closest to. He looked up at me from his sitting position on the ground, his eyes filled with resignation. I reached for him through the bars, but he was suddenly jerked away to the center. The gypsy grabbed Erik by the hair and jerked him upward.

"Behold, the Devil's Child!"

As he said the words, the man removed Erik's mask, threw it to the ground, and returned to the outside of the cage.

The screams and laughter began, and I raced toward the entrance of the cage. Since he was turned toward the crowd, I hadn't seen Erik's face. That didn't matter in the least, because I knew what would come next. He hesitantly bent down and put the mask back over his face, looking around to see who would be the first to throw something. By some miraculous mistake, the door had been left unlocked. The gypsy yelled at me as I stepped inside, but was blocked by the crowd, who didn't seem to care. Erik turned toward me at the same time I called out for him to move. A smallish rock hit him in the head where he had previously been bleeding. Someone laughed and clapped with joy as he became unconscious and fell to the ground. The perpetrator was a young boy, no older than six, with bright blonde hair and blue eyes. His face was flawless, but his cold eyes revealed his true disposition. It was sad that so a young soul was blackened by such cruelty and hatred, but that boy had ceased to be the problem. The problem now was the rest of the crowd, whose hands had risen up back in preparation to pelt the helpless Erik with rocks, rotten food, and even handfuls of manure.

Using all of my strength, I threw myself over Erik's body and braced myself for the first impact of flying obstacles already in the air. Down they came, and oh how they hurt! I peeked upward at them, expecting to see the crowd's shock at my presence…but they were still throwing as many things as they could get their hands on. I did not cry in pain or humiliation. I forced myself to silently bear the pain, punishment for letting my curiosity show. This was all my fault, and I had no idea how to get us back to that safe place of warm light. Yet who could truly think with so much pain being inflicted upon them? How did my poor Erik manage to stand this torment each and every day? How was he still alive after this long? His reaction in the place of light suggested that his mind and heart were on the verge of breaking. I couldn't let that happen. To let him break would mean that I did not care for him, and even in his youth I could not deny that I loved him. Why should his age make any difference? To hold back ever so slightly would no doubt be wise, but I would have to completely cut myself off from him in order to prevent my love from coming through.

I felt my thoughts slipping as my body tried to make me pass out to escape the pain. What would happen if I let the darkness take over? Would Erik be all right, or would I be dragged away so that he could be hurt? It was soon obvious that I didn't really have a choice. Fight as I might, my body took over and eased me gently into the blissful world of unconsciousness. Strangely, it seemed like as soon as I passed out, I began to wake up. Did I want to wake up? I knew that I probably should, but my mind passed in and out of darkness. There was a noise, a very uncomfortable one. I couldn't place it, but I knew that I wanted to make the noise stop somehow. A drop of water landed on my cheek and rolled back toward my ear. Was it raining? No, there wasn't enough water falling for that. Crying! Yes, that was it. The uncomfortable noise and the water droplet had both come from someone crying. But who?

"Please…" a voice pleaded quietly, "Please wake up."

It was Erik. I would know his voice anywhere! But why was he crying? Why did he want me to wake up so badly? The pain that shot through my body as I slowly regained consciousness gave me the answer. I was hurt. How badly, I didn't know, but enough to worry Erik. My eyes slowly opened, afraid of what they would see. We were both back in the place of dark nothingness, and Erik was holding me in his arms. A smile crossed my face when he looked down at me worriedly. I had wanted to be in this position for years, but unfortunately the gesture didn't mean what I wanted it to mean. All the same, the feeling of being held by him was wonderful. I could feel every nerve in my body screaming in pain, but his touch made everything else insignificant. No matter how wonderful I felt, Erik still saw the pain shining in my eyes.

"Why did you do it?"

I frowned in confusion. What was he talking about? Several things had happened since we had last had an actual conversation with one another. To which event was he referring?

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He brushed his fingers gently across a spot on my forehead that was starting to bruise.

"You took all the torture that was meant for me." he said softly, "Why?"

I stared at him for a moment. There hadn't really been much thought behind that action, just a feeling of duty.

"Why wouldn't I?" I replied with a painful shrug that I immediately regretted, "They were going to hurt you. I couldn't just stand by and let them do that. You mean too much to me."

I ran my hand down his arm comfortingly, resisting the urge to cry. The look in his eyes made it plain that he truly didn't understand. How many ways could I say 'I love you' without actually saying it? I would go to the ends of the earth and back for my Erik, but even then he wouldn't comprehend my true feelings for him. Perhaps for now that was truly best, for who knew what would become of us if he understood and was then denied by the time that separated us? Sitting up (and nearly screaming in agony on the way), I inspected my wounds. They weren't all that bad, there were just a lot of them.

Erik gently placed a hand on my back and helped me come to a semi-comfortable sitting position. I reached up to brush a lock of hair out of his face and he closed his eyes, warm tears flowing to the inside of the mask. It occurred to me then that the tears must have been physically uncomfortable for him. I desperately wanted to tell him to simply take the stupid mask off, but I knew that he wouldn't do that. Would he ever trust me enough to let me remove it? More importantly, would he ever get the chance? There was no real guarantee that we would ever meet again, and knowing that made my heart feel like it weighed a thousand pounds. A voice in the back of my mind told me not to risk that chance. It told me what I needed to do. I wouldn't do it the exact same way of course, how could I if I loved him so? But should I truly sink that low just to show him that I was unafraid? There seemed to be no other alterative, but the mere thought made me feel ill. How could I ever even think of doing such a thing to my Erik? I wished that I could jump into my mind and strangle the voice! So badly did I want to quiet the voice. Then I would never again have to hear the oh so tempting suggestion…to pull a Christine…


	4. Pool of Desire

I stood to my feet and immediately found my knees buckling out from under me. Erik caught me; his eyes were filled with concern once more. No. I could never hurt him like Christine had, never could I so blatantly betray Erik's trust. His image started to blur and I heard him call my name as I passed out again. The next sensation that I felt was water being dribbled over my arms and forehead.

"Anisette?" Erik said softly, "Can you hear me?"

I groaned in pain. My entire body felt like a throbbing mass of bruised flesh. Apparently I had underestimated my injuries.

"Where does it hurt?"

His voice was like a salve, the only medicine that would quiet my screaming brain. I opened my eyes and smiled at him half-heartedly.

"Yes." I replied with a slight smirk.

He smiled and shook his head. How I loved to see him smile! Unfortunately, his smile disappeared and was replaced by a look of sorrow.

"I'm so sorry, Anisette. If I hadn't overreacted-"

I placed my fingers over his lips. There was no way that I would let him take the blame for my stupid curiosity.

Suddenly, a glow drew my attention momentarily away from Erik and to the pond we were sitting by. The glow was strange, and seemed to come from somewhere underneath the water. It was impossible to tell how far down the glow was, the water distorting my depth perception as I stared at the beautiful but dimming light. I crawled on my hands and knees into the water, but Erik threw his arm around my waist and pulled me back with dizzying velocity. Putting a hand to my head, I looked at him in annoyance.

"What'd you do that for?" I whined.

"It might be some sort of trap." he said darkly, "We should stay away from it."

I rolled my eyes. Of course it was a trap. To Erik, _everything_ was a trap, no matter how innocent.

"You worry too much, hon." I said as I smiled and patted his arm.

As soon as I stepped into the water I was pulled under. Where was the bottom? It seemed as though I had stepped off of a cliff straight into the deepest part of the pond. The water was freezing cold, and my chest burned for want of oxygen. The current pulled me further and further down into the blackness, and I scanned the water frantically for the luminescence I had seen from the surface. There wasn't a single beam of light to be seen. What kind of a place was this? I fought against the current, but began to wonder if I was only swimming deeper into the abyss. Which way was up?

'Oh crap, oh crap, oh CRAP!' I thought in panic.

Suddenly, I slammed into an invisible object. The impact forced the little bit of remaining air in my lungs out, and the surrounding water rushed in to drown me. Of all the STUPID ways to die! What would Erik think? Would he stare into the water for a while, expecting me to come back up? Surely he wouldn't dive in after me…would he? No! If he dove in to save me, he would drown too! Such were my last thoughts of despair as my heart ceased to beat.

Warmth. Wasn't death supposed to be cold and desolate? I felt safe and relaxed, with the strange knowledge in my heart that everything was going to be all right. A soft chuckle filled my ears, and I slowly opened my eyes. There was an old man (or was he young…?) sitting in a chair across from me. His eyes twinkled brightly and a kind smile from him caused my sore muscles to relax. The man intrigued me so much that I almost didn't notice the figure lying unconscious on the other couch. I leapt up from where I had been lying and rushed to Erik's side.

"He'll be all right." the man said gently, "Just let him rest."

"He could have died," I whispered in horror, "and it would have been all my fault."

"You did what you were meant to do, following the light amidst the darkness."

I turned to the somehow familiar stranger with tears in my eyes.

"What can I do? If Erik doesn't escape from those monsters soon, he'll be killed!"

He pulled me to my feet and led me into a different room. A blue pond filled the room, about the size of the black one that had pulled me into its depths.

"It is there that you will find the answers you seek, though your path will not at first be clear."

I stared at the water in fear. Death wasn't what caused me to hesitate, for I could deal with that just fine. The problem was that Erik lay unconscious in the other room, and I wasn't sure that I could trust this old man with someone so precious to me. I looked up into the man's eyes and found peace. He could be trusted. Before my brain had time to protest, I ran and jumped into the mysterious water. Because of its resemblance to the black pool, I had assumed that this blue one would be frigid as well. The temperature was perfect. As my body slowly sank downward to the bottom, I looked upward to see how far down I had come. Nothing but blue surrounded me, and I panicked as my feet touched an unseen platform. How would I get back to the surface if I couldn't even tell which way was up anymore? My worries melted away as the warm light appeared once more and filled the space around me. It entered my body and cleaned me from the inside out, and I took a deep relaxing breath. This was obviously no ordinary pool. All the injuries that I had obtained from shielding Erik healed and began to disappear. Sadness filled my heart as I watched them go, but then I felt a light scar reappear along my hairline. Somehow the force that had healed me also understood my need for a reminder. Though the pain had not been a blessing, I wanted to always remember my time with Erik.

An object materialized amidst the golden warmth, and I walked toward it. A mirror stood there, as if it had always been waiting for me. The light faded away like in a movie theatre, and I felt the hair on my arms stand up. An image came into focus, and my jaw dropped silently as I stared at it. A little girl was curled up in a man's arms, smiling contentedly. The man seemed to be Erik, though I couldn't see much more than his outline, and he was softly singing the child to sleep. Her eyes gently drooped shut and she was soon breathing heavily. Erik carried the sleeping girl into a room and put her to bed. A woman crept in to stand beside him and pulled the sheets over her. It was easy to see that the woman was an older version of myself, and tears formed in my eyes as I realized…_this was _our_ child_. Erik blew out the lamp that sat on the nightstand, and his golden eyes looked from the sleeping girl to me in love. He gently brushed the hair away from our daughter's face with his hand and kissed her on the forehead. I laid my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around me as we turned to leave. Light shone briefly from the other room as we exited, then everything went dark with the click of the door.

I fell to my knees and placed my hand over my mouth to prevent oncoming sobs from escaping. This is what I wanted…what I had always wanted. Daydreaming of what life might have been like if Erik and I had ever met had become a hobby of sorts, and seeing a beautiful vision such as this that was so real I could almost touch it…left me shaken to my core. What would Erik think if I ever told him of my dreams? Would he think I was insane? Maybe he would just stare at me. Even worse, maybe he would laugh at me, thinking it was all some sort of stupid joke. Or…maybe he would smile. Maybe he would take my hand and I would lead him into a new life of love and affection, instead of one consisting of nothing but fear and pain. There was currently no way to know the answer to that, as Erik was still only twelve years old.

Suddenly, my head emerged from the water and I was walking toward the old man…and Erik. He looked terrible, standing there still partially wet with dried blood and who knows what else crusted over in his hair. The firelight from the other room illuminated every bruise and scar on his slim body. I rushed toward him, my arms opening to embrace him. He stepped back, and I stopped short. Why was he rejecting my embrace? Was he truly that upset with me for diving into the water? He had every right to be angry with me, as I had nearly gotten the two of us killed. Twice, if you count the fact that I forced the memory of the carnival upon him, which I do. But surprisingly, that wasn't the reason he stepped away.

"You're too clean." he said softly.

I looked at him sideways, not able to understand what he meant. Had the light truly removed all the damage permanently? Glancing in a mirror that stood beside the pond, I was shocked to see that it had. Not only was I clean and unbruised, but I was also dry and clothed in a cream-colored silk robe and slippers with light lacey clothing on underneath. No wonder poor Erik didn't feel right touching me, the clothing I had on was probably very expensive!

I reached out toward him and took his hand. He looked at me hesitantly, and I pulled him gently toward me and wrapped my arms around him. The old man cleared his throat after a moment, and we looked over at him. He gestured toward the pool with an open palm and glanced at me meaningfully.

"Am I not to accompany him?" I asked confusedly.

Shaking his head slowly, the man replied,

"No. He alone must go, as you did."

I nodded in understanding. There were some things that were just simply more meaningful if experienced alone. Erik took one look into the water's depths and froze in mid-step. I squeezed his hand comfortingly and he stepped into the water. It seemed to only take a moment before his head appeared above the water again. Instead of the feeling of wonder and peace that I had gained from my trip, Erik's eyes were filled with sadness and his shoulders sagged as if he carried a great weight upon them. Fortunately, he had at least been cleaned, healed, and clothed by the pond. He paused to look in the mirror and halfway lifted his hand, only to drop it and walk away.

Try as I might, I could not get Erik to tell me anything about his time in the water. In fact, I couldn't coax much more than one-word answers from him for the rest of the evening. We all retired to separate bedchambers, and I glanced at him worriedly as he walked into his room. Late into the night, I awoke to silence. I crept over to stand in front of Erik's door and put my ear up against it. A soft moan came from inside, and I had to restrain myself from immediately going inside.

"Why?" he said softly, "Why did I even dare to hope that things would ever be different? Even _magic _cannot rid me of this curse!"

His voice was shaky and filled with sorrow, as if he was trying not to cry. I listened for more, but not a sound came from the room after that.

Walking away with a heavy heart, I wandered into the room containing the pond. I sat down at the edge and looked over into what was now a pool of blackness. A ripple appeared on the surface, and I reached up to wipe away the tears that were gently flowing down my face. Even when not separated by centuries of time, there was little I could do to help Erik.

'If only I knew what he saw in the mirror, maybe then I could comfort him.' I thought.

As if on cue, the mirror beside me started to glow. I turned to look at it, hope returning with a flourish. Some unseen force had heard my thoughts and was going to help! At last perhaps Erik and I would get a break. There was always the possibility that Erik's reaction to the pool had nothing to do with what he saw, but the chances of that were fairly slim. He had looked depressed and disappointed even before he discovered that the mirror hadn't healed his deformity. The silence he had created between us that evening couldn't last much longer, for we had no idea how much time we had left together. To waste precious time in unexplained sorrow would be foolish.

The scene that appeared in the mirror was, like my own, short but significant. Two figures sat in a private box at the opera house. They conversed quietly, criticizing and praising different parts of the performance. The show came to an end and everyone stood and clapped approvingly. I tilted my head to the side, trying my best not to be stupid. So far, the events had been quite mundane, not pointing to any specific longing of the heart. Why would such a thing be so devastating to Erik? Then, before the lights went up in the opera house, the two people rose from their seats and scurried out of view, the man swiftly leading the lady by the arm out of our sight. The lights of the mirror began to dim, but did not blacken before a single frame came into view: a mask…lying forgotten amidst the merriment on one of the seats.

"Oh Erik…"

Tears flooded my eyes. He only wanted someone to look upon him, without his mask, and call him 'friend'. To, even if for just a little while, make him forget that he was different. Such a simple desire, yet to him it was an impossible dream.

Walking down the hallway toward Erik's room, I was careful not to make any noise. If he heard me, then he would wake up, which would spoil my plan of secretly checking on him. The door creaked slightly as I opened it, and I froze as he stirred beneath the sheets. After a moment he was still again, and I inched forward toward him. I realized as I came closer to the edge of the bed that sneaking around probably wasn't the brightest idea when dealing with Erik. Regardless, I went closer until I was inches from where his hand was resting. He looked very peaceful lying there, almost as if he hadn't a trouble in the world. But what was his expression under the mask? It was time for me to find out. Even though he was younger and slightly smaller than I, Erik would hurt me if I tried to remove his mask when he was awake. Nevertheless, it had to be done. And so, praying that he wouldn't wake up while I was in the act of doing so, I carefully lifted the mask from his face.

He was deformed, but oh so beautiful at the same time, just as I had known he would be. The only thing that was different…was that the light that had first brought Erik and myself together had ceased its beautiful trickery on my eyes. Though he had not yet acquired yellowed skin, the other physical attributes that Leroux had described in his book were quite accurate. Unsurprisingly, I felt nothing more than a 'well now, whadda ya know about that?' reaction toward this new discovery. Nothing whatsoever could have changed my feelings for Erik, especially not his appearance! Once again I found myself crying gently for him. Why did people have to be so cruel? It wasn't as if he had other things in life to hold him up, like money or a good title. Poor Erik had nothing, and yet somehow people found ways to take even more from him. I began to understand even more clearly than before why the Phantom had been created. _If he could not inspire love…then he would inspire terror_. Before, Leroux's written words had spoken truth to me, but now they brought on a new kind of meaning. People had taken everything from Erik, so he would begin to take away what they valued most, their lives. Yes, there was a strange sort of logic to his thinking. It was the kind of twisted logic that only someone with a tragic past could see. The two of us had both seen tragedy in our lives, though I to a much lesser extent. No doubt others could have understood him as well, had they tried hard enough to open their hardened hearts. Alas, my poor Erik was doomed to have a future of the same hardships as his past.

Knowing that I was doing something that could possibly rouse him, I leaned over Erik's sleeping form and softly kissed him upon the forehead. He slowly opened his eyes, then immediately tried to jump up. I held him in place and his eyes grew wide as he recognized the object I was holding.

"No…"

The syllable was one of absolute terror, and it nearly broke my heart in two. His golden eyes shimmered with tears as he fell to his knees at my feet.

"Please…don't-don't go…"

He began to sob, clutching my robe in desperation.

"_Please_…"

I hurriedly dropped to my knees and held him to me tightly.

"Never," I swore, "I'll never abandon you, I promise."

With that I kissed him upon the head once more, and he buried his face into my shoulder. At last the tension had ceased, and there were practically no barriers between his heart and my own. For a moment it almost seemed as if we were one, our single heart having the sole desire to have time stand still, even if only for a short time. Suddenly, we were back in the light again. Where the old man had gone, I didn't know, but I silently thanked him for giving us some time alone.

The bright light faded and condensed into two small separate spheres of pure light. Somehow I knew that it was time to leave. Erik seemed to realize this as well, for he placed the mask back over his face and rose to his feet. He smiled slightly, but his eyes were filled with sadness and perhaps even a tinge of fear.

"Will I ever see you again?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know…"

The word 'yes' was right on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't bring myself to give him false hope. If there was one thing Erik needed in his life at the moment (apart from the key to his cage), it was hope, but what kind of hope could I give him that wouldn't end in heartache for us both?

"Is any of this even real?" he said, gesturing to the empty space around us.

"Of course." I reassured him, "Even if one of us thought he was dreaming this up, he could simply write the other for confirmation."

"We could both have had separate dreams of each other. How will we ever truly know?"

Somehow I had to come up with a way to let him know that this wasn't just an ordinary dream, but what could I do? My hands had been habitually playing with the locket around my neck, and I froze in recognition of the significance of that action. I quickly removed the treasure and placed it in Erik's hand.

"This locket belonged to my grandmother, whom I loved more than my own life." I said solemnly, "It's one of my most precious possessions, perhaps even _the_ most precious."

He looked at me in shock.

"I could never take something so dear to you, you might never see it again!"

Erik tried to push the locket back into my hand, but I closed his fingers around it with firm determination.

"I want you to take it as a reminder, so that you'll never forget my promise."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I slowly turned toward my sphere of light.

"You're more important to me than any trinket could ever be…" I whispered.

The exact moment I touched the sphere, I felt the light touch of someone's lips upon the palm of my free hand, and then the pressure of something being hastily shoved into it. I turned to look for Erik, but all I saw was the fluffy whiteness of…my…pillow?

For a moment I stared at it in confusion. How had I gotten to my room? The realization of why I was not at the mirror caused my mood to sink into a gloomy depression. I had fallen asleep. All throughout the strange interaction with Erik, I had assumed that what I was experiencing was real.

"Stupid." I muttered under my breath.

Tears attempted to spill forth from my eyes, and I stubbornly rubbed them away. What had I expected? There was no logical way that I could have been transported to him while dreaming. Of course, there was really no logic to our connection through the diary either…or had that all been a dream too? At that thought, tears streamed down my face. If there was one thing that was real, it was the fact that I had school that day. That, and the desire to ram my head repeatedly into a brick wall. And the slightly bumpy line of skin near my hairline. And there was also the annoying feeling of being poked in the side with something. But what on earth could be poking me in my bed? I lifted the covers, and my heart nearly stopped. Lying next to me…was a mask.


	5. Destiny and Density

I sat staring at the piece of leather for several moments, frozen in absolute shock. The sheer unexpectedness of the discovery left me speechless. I picked up the diary where I had left it the night before and flipped hurriedly to where the conversation had stopped.

A- Erik?

E- It was there, wasn't it?

A- You DID do it on purpose. Why?

E- What do you mean?

A- It was the one thing that you owned AND what kept people from seeing your face. Why would you give up the only thing that allows you respite from the world's cruelty?

E- So you do understand. I wasn't sure whether or not you would. You gave up your most important possession to seal a promise, a friendship. I now give you all I have to offer in order to make the same oath. Never shall I forget your immense kindness toward me. Anisette, you were the first to look upon me as something other than a monster or demon, the only one to consider me a fellow human being. For that I shall never forget you. As long as I live I will strive to somehow repay this debt.

A- Don't dwell too much on repaying me. I'm glad that I was able to help, and the fact that you're okay is all that matters. Your life is going to become quite busy soon, don't be surprised if you don't have the time to write much or forget to do so over the next few years or so. Something tells me that time won't pass the same for us anyway, so don't worry about needing to apologize for it either.

E- I'm tempted to ask about these future events, but I know you will deny me the information. As to your guess about time, it is very true. I've noticed you writing the date at the top of each page. I didn't want you to notice right away, so I went back each time we finished talking and wrote the date myself. If you look, you will see that there is usually more than a day between each entry, sometimes there are even a few weeks between them. I didn't mean to inadvertently lie to you, but I wasn't sure you would understand. The times I can write to you are very rare. The gypsies seem to always be watching. Will you forgive my deception?

A- I do understand, and OF COURSE I forgive you! I would never get angry with you over something like that. Also, you are quite correct in your assumption that I will not reveal your future. I'll always help with any of your current troubles, but ever will I risk messing with your future. I've seen too many movies about that kind of thing to risk it.

E- Movies?

I chuckled. How many things that were ordinary occurrences in my day would Erik know nothing about?

A- Moving pictures that create scenes like that of real life. Eventually someone figures out how to add sound, then even later, color.

E- I would say that it's impossible, but after last night I doubt I shall ever consider anything impossible again.

A- Very true.

I happened to glance at the clock out of the corner of my eye, and immediately gave out a yelp. It was seven o' clock and school started at seven-thirty. My parents would kill me if I missed school, especially since I was still grounded from the bookstore incident!

A- Erik, I'm sorry but I have to go. School starts in half an hour and it takes me a while to get from my locker to class.

E- Very well. I suppose that the gypsies are already set up for the day as well.

A- Be safe, Erik.

E- I shall do my best.

I hurriedly closed the book and leapt up from my bed. The shower I took was the fastest of my entire life, barely long enough to ensure that I had rinsed all the soap off of me. I jerked some clothes from my dresser drawer and threw them onto my still damp torso, not caring enough to bother checking to see whether or not they formed a matching outfit. Practically diving into the driver's seat of my car, I put on my seatbelt and threw my stuff into the back seat. As my body raced to get to school on time, pushing the gas pedal as far as I could without breaking the speed limit, my mind was racing as well. I felt like Harry Potter every time I reached up to rub the hidden tingling scar at the edge of my hairline. It had all been real, and I could communicate with Erik any time I needed to. Would I ever see him again? I desperately hoped so. If, however, I never even heard from Erik again, at least we would each always have a piece of each other to carry around with us.

As I haphazardly chucked books and papers into my locker, I saw it. The mask. I still couldn't believe that he had given it to me! Rising from where I had previously knelt on the floor, I gently placed the relic back into my backpack and sealed it safely inside with a quiet 'ziiiiiiiiip'. If there had been room, I would have stashed it in the purse that I always carried around with me. Unfortunately, there was various and sundry other crap in there, and I didn't want to risk anything happening to the mask. It would be just my luck for a normally sturdy pen to explode, or for my bottle of tightly sealed whiteout to somehow spill all over the place. No. I treated all my belongings with the utmost respect and was even more careful with things I borrowed from my friends. Erik's mask was pretty beaten up already, but that was of little importance to me. As long as it was in my possession, that little piece of leather would be treated as if it had been crafted out of silver or gold, because that's just how precious it was to me.

The days rolled lazily by, and I hadn't heard from Erik again. I wasn't worried this time though, because somehow I just _knew_ that he was safe. I had read in a book that he had escaped from the gypsies when he was twelve. Perhaps the time had come when he was able to get away. How wonderful it would be to see words of happiness and relief written on the pages of our journal rather than ones of sorrow and pain. I was sitting in math class when I remembered what truly happened when Erik escaped, and my blood went cold as ice. He had convinced his 'owner' to let him perform for a while instead of being tortured. Then, after the gypsy felt that Erik had brought in enough money to be considered halfway useful, he rewarded him…with a nightmare. Erik killed the man before the horrible deed was done, but he would be mentally scarred from those few minutes. I hoped against hope that somehow that detail of Erik's life was a lie, nothing more than fiction for the stouthearted reader. There was no way I could tell at that moment if it was or not, and I was hesitant to even think about asking Erik.

Weeks soon went by, and one could see where my mind was (or wasn't as the case may be) by looking at my grades, which were dropping rapidly. Thoughts of Erik consumed my mind, leaving little room for anything else. I still wasn't worried about him, as he had actually started writing to me again, but I just couldn't stop daydreaming about the vision in the mirror. Looking deeply into the red stone on my class ring, I saw the scene playing out once more. I smiled. The mere thought of being Erik's spouse sent shivers of delight down my spine. We were destined to be together, I just knew it! Someday one of us would be able to cross the barrier of time and stay with his other half. Then there would be no pure light pulsing to remind us what we had to return to. Erik wouldn't have to be alone anymore…and neither would I. It was obvious that he was very relaxed with me now. Erik wrote me nearly every day, describing the events of his life as he studied architecture under a man named Giovanni and then moved on to other parts of the world. Due to the difference in the way time passed in our realms, Erik would be my age in no time at all. Perhaps then he would see me as more than just a friend and guardian.. He would take me in his arms and say-

"What is the object's density?"

My head jerked up and I saw that everyone was staring at me. The chemistry teacher had that 'I've got you now!' look on his face.

"I-I'm sorry, but could you repeat the question please?" I asked quietly.

He repeated the question and I tried my best to answer it. Since I hadn't been paying much attention when the lesson was first taught a few days before, my answer was completely incorrect. It was a bit of a shame, really. Before I went to help Erik, I had been very good at chemistry. Now it seemed as though I couldn't even piece together the density of an object when given its mass and volume! My face turned red as I thought about what Erik's reaction would be if he ever found out. He valued intelligence above almost everything else, and yet here I was, headed toward a failing grade for the six weeks in many of my classes. I realized that if I wanted to be able to even talk to Erik without feeling like an absolute imbecile, I would have to start bringing my grades up tout de suite.

Unfortunately, my newfound determination hadn't come soon enough. When I went to sleep that night I woke almost immediately, lying on my side and surrounded by soft darkness. Rolling over onto my hands and knees, I saw a shoe…tapping in impatience. My eyes traveled up the body and froze when they recognized the piece of paper that was in the person's hand. Earlier that day I had gathered all my progress reports and written my grades on a single piece of paper. The grade reports had one into the recycling bin, and the piece of paper had been shoved into a random book. I swallowed hard when I realized what book I had put it in…the diary.

Erik stood with his arms crossed and his piercing cat-like eyes glaring at me. As soon as I stood up, I could see that he had gone through a major growth spurt. When we were last face to face, he had been a little bit shorter than me. Now he was taller than me by several inches, had gained some muscles over the years that had gone by for him…and he looked…_good_. For a moment I stared at him in absolute shock and adoration, then I quickly recovered at the sight of anger and annoyance in his eyes.

"Perhaps you would care to explain this?"

He held up the paper with two fingers and looked at me pointedly. Maybe if I tried to act naïve?

"It's a piece of paper." I stated coolly, "Your point being?"

The needles shooting from his eyes sharpened.

"Do you take me to be simpleminded?" he snapped.

I winced at the sound of his voice.

"No, Erik…" I replied meekly.

"Apparently you do, otherwise you would not feign innocence!"

I rolled my eyes and sighed in exasperation.

"Stop being so overdramatic. It's not like I committed a crime or anything, they're just grades!"

"Just grades?" he stated in disbelief, "_Just_ grades?"

"Yeeeesssss." I emphasized, "These particular grades don't mean much, I have plenty of time to raise them."

"That's no excuse! Just look at this disgraceful evidence of a lack of effort!"

He rattled off my classes for the trimester and the letter grade I had earned in each thus far. I imagined that, had he not been wearing a mask, Erik's face would have been visibly flushed with rage. Nonetheless, I stood tolerantly listening to him read the list that I could not only have read, but had written myself. Somehow each embarrassing line seemed even worse coming from his lips. I thanked my lucky stars that each trimester only had five classes, and was even more grateful when Erik reached the end of them.

"Well?" he jabbed, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Several responses flashed through my mind, including 'mind your own business', 'this isn't a courtroom', 'shove it', 'at least I didn't KILL anyone', and 'your call cannot be completed as dialed, please hang up and go jump in a lake'. Instead, I did my best to appease him.

"I'm…sorry?"

Erik's face immediately told me it was a no-go.

"You're sorry. How wonderfully pathetic AND insincere! I happen to be the same age as you now, Anisette, and I know for a fact that I could do ten times better than this even if I was on my deathbed! This exhibits the work of a slothful, obtuse individual of poor character!"

I watched him storm away with my mouth hanging open. His frustration was justifiable, but never had I expected him to insult me in such a way! It seemed as though Erik had changed more over the past few years of his life than I had thought, and not in a pleasant way either. I sat on what passed as the ground in the dark void we were in, and pulled my legs up to my chest. A tear rolled down my cheek as I laid my chin down on top of my knees, and I wiped it away. More soon followed, though no sounds accompanied my silent crying. I wanted so much to please Erik, to perhaps even impress him, but all I had seemed to do was fail to meet his expectations. It was then that I began to wonder if I would ever pass anyone's standards. There were one or two friends who seemed to truly accept me as I was (and I do mean one or two), but other than that there was hardly anyone whom I could please just by being myself. My schoolmates had always held higher standards than I could reach, as had my choir directors. Even my parents were often disappointed by my apparent naïveté. I chanced a look at Erik, hoping to see the calm and caring look on his face that I had grown accustomed to seeing from last time. His back was turned to me, and he had crossed his arms once more. Even from a distance, I could see that he was inhaling short breaths and exhaling long huffy ones, which meant he was still very angry.

I laid my head sideways on my knees so that my line of vision was completely opposite of Erik. Had he said the things he just had back when he was twelve, I would have just shaken it off and moved on. Now that he was eighteen, he was one of my peers. I couldn't think of a single insult that Erik hadn't managed to work into short but painful speech. Well, he hadn't called me ugly. That could have been one small consolation, but I already thought I was ugly, so it didn't really matter. I stared intently into the immense nothingness, willing something, _anything_, to come into existence, just so that I wouldn't have to hear the echoes of Erik's criticism. My finger traced invisible lines in the air, and suddenly ripples appeared. When the ripples disappeared, a person appeared. Several others materialized, and soon there was a small crowd. They all formed a line and one by one stopped to peer in a glass container. After looking in the box, each of them would stop to write something on a piece of paper. The piece of paper would then be pinned to whatever creature was in the container, each time accompanied by a small shriek of pain from the poor thing.

When I walked over to see what kind of animal was being studied and tortured, everything changed. I was the creature in the box, but the people studying me were inside with me. The box turned into a classroom and the people to my peers. In the blink of an eye, the pieces of paper were pinned to every part of my body. After another moment, everything disappeared. I found myself back in the place of nothingness, but was startled to see that the words written on the papers had come with me. There was neither paper nor pins, but each word appeared on my body like tattoos. It didn't take me long to discover that each word was a criticism. In the few places where there weren't criticisms in ebony ink, there were compliments and words of love from family and friends that appeared in a warm red color. My heart ached as I saw how the black clearly outnumbered the red. No matter how hard I rubbed, they wouldn't come off. Then a shadow person, its body somehow blacker than the surrounding blackness stepped out of the void and started walking toward me. I looked around desperately for somewhere to hide, but there was none. I flinched as the shadow lifted its hand, but it was no use. When it touched me, all of the words floated off of me and began to swirl in space. Some of the words vanished, and new ones appeared as well. They all solidified and formed a horrid looking thing, recognizable as a teenage girl, whom I knew right away. Though I had never seen her before with my eyes, my heart had seen her quite often. The words that had formed her were now written on her as they had been written on me, though I could see no trace of a single red word. Because of the world, this girl was who I saw myself as almost every day.

The other me walked out into the open and met another person that I didn't know. The two people fussed and fumed at one another, and the longer they did, the worse their appearances became. They didn't seem to be purposefully doing this to one another, but the results were the same regardless. As they lashed out at each other, I turned my attention to the figure that I didn't know. He seemed slightly familiar, but not even to the point that I could say for sure whether or not I knew him. It was a bit hard to tell, as he wore a kind of cloak that shielded most of his (_was_ it a he? may be it was a she…) body from view. I assumed that it had to be someone that I knew, because I doubted the other me would be fighting him so viciously if I didn't. My curiosity got the best of me, and I began to approach him. The other me became distracted by something and walked away, while the stranger looked at me nervously. When it became clear to the person that I was indeed approaching him, he began to back away.

I realized that if this stranger decided to run, he could most likely do so for an eternity without running into any sort of barrier in this odd place. The probability of witnessing a speedy retreat increased with each step I took. Raising my hand, I casually created a room around the two of us as if I had been doing that sort of thing my entire life. I was slightly disturbed when the figure began to frantically search the smooth wooden walls for a door that did not exist. Did I truly appear to be that threatening? Of course, if I had been in his place and someone boxed me in an inescapable room with them, I probably would have panicked as well. The room was small, so I reached him in a fairly short period of time. I reached up slowly and dropped the hood of the cloak so that I could see the person's face.

Terrifying. That's the only word that appropriately describes the face that I saw. I found myself suddenly wishing that I hadn't trapped myself in the room with whatever it was I stood looking at. Though I knew it was human, the beast looked much more like something that had crawled up from the depths of Hell. That one thought was actually what kept me from moving away or screaming. The being hung its head as if in shame, strange but familiar eyes sparkling with tears.

"Erik?" I asked in soft wonder.

He looked up at me in surprise and recognition. It was suddenly obvious to me that I hadn't been the only one to see his other self. Due to the circumstances Erik was constantly forced to live in, his version of himself was much worse. I gently pulled up his sleeves and watched in silence as tiny black words floated in and out of view. There were so many of them that they had created a kind of conveyor belt. All words written in black were always made visible to others, which is why they took turns showing up on this Erik's arms.

The words sped by faster and faster, and I could tell by the look on marked Erik's face exactly where they were coming from.

"Stop that!" I scolded.

He flinched, and the words began to rush by at an even quicker pace. I took his face in my hands.

"Lies." I said softly, "It's all lies."

Erik's eyes lightened briefly with hope, and I knew that he desperately wanted to believe me. Suddenly all the words came flying off of Erik's skin and started attacking him like birds. The next moment, they were back on his skin as if they'd never left.

"They do that sometimes," he said sadly, "just to make sure I don't forget."

"But it's not _true_." I said through oncoming tears.

"I saw the look on your face when you dropped my hood!" he spat, "Maybe you would care to add a few words to this?"

Of course. The solution was so simple that I had overlooked it.

"Yes," I replied, "I would."

I pulled him close and began to whisper in his ear, accompanying each word with a small kiss on his cheek and neck.

"Beautiful. Wonderful. Strong. Kind. Thoughtful. Compassionate. Caring. Brave. Talented. Honest. Loyal. Intelligent. Generous. Persistent. Reliable. Passionate. Resourceful. Unique. Sensible…"

The list continued for a little bit, many but not all of the black words slowly being erased by red ones. As this happened, Erik began to look more like his true self. I didn't fool myself into thinking that he was the real Erik, but part of him would return to my Erik. There was a chance that perhaps Erik would feel a bit better about himself after things went back to normal, and I would use that chance as best I could. After a moment, I pulled back and looked dazed Erik in the eyes.

"_You are_ _loved_."

I spoke the word with all the reverence and passion it deserved, and kissed him on the lips. Before I could pull away completely, Erik wrapped his arms around me and whispered the three sweetest words I had ever heard.

"_So are you_."

He kissed me. For that one moment, I was heaven. Nothing else mattered but us. When I opened my eyes, he was gone. I was curled up in the same position I had been in before drawing lines in the air, and tears were still leaking rapidly from my eyes. Had any of it really happened? Was there any way to find out? Then I forgot. The memory slipped away and left me feeling alone and hurt as I had before. Yet still there was a warm glow buried deep inside my heart, ensuring that even though I remembered and felt nothing of its presence, the memory of our brief exchange of passion would never truly be lost.


	6. Fire and Ice

Something was amiss. All I had been doing for the past minute or so was stare into the emptiness, yet I felt the remains of adrenaline rushing through my body. However deeply Erik's words had cut me, they would not have caused this type of reaction. No matter how hard I tried, I simply couldn't figure out what had happened. Something significant, that was for certain, because the hair on my arms and neck were standing up and tingling. It wasn't necessarily a nervous feeling, just one that came from intense emotion. Whether that emotion had been good or bad was difficult to determine. Why couldn't I remember? Had Erik been right to insinuate that I wasn't very bright, and this was a lapse of memory for that reason? The thought made even more tears fall from my eyes.

"Anisette?"

Erik's voice came from where he now crouched right beside me, making me cringe in anticipation of more criticism. Instead, a warm gentle hand reached up and wiped away my tears.

"I'm sorry, Anisette." he said softly, "I didn't mean to imply that you _were_ those things, my dear. You are the exact opposite, which is why these partial term results upset me so."

Erik turned my face toward his and caressed my cheek with the back of his hand.

"You're so much _better_ than this, Anisette."

His golden eyes flashed as he spoke, a look that is much more attractive than it sounds.

"You show so much promise! I would hate to see your brilliance get overlooked due to-"

He stopped stroking my cheek and cocked his head to the side.

"Why ever did you do so poorly?"

I paused, trying to decide whether or not I should tell him the truth. Unfortunately, I was so drugged by the feeling of his hand accidentally trailing down the side of my neck that my pause was only mental, not verbal.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you…" I said a little dreamily.

Erik pulled his hand away and I came back to my senses with a deep blush.

"You shouldn't have to try that hard," he replied with a slight sadness in his voice, "I'm not worth that much thought."

He rose and offered me his hand. I gave him a look as I let him help me up.

"And _you_ shouldn't have to be told that you're wrong, because I've told you a thousand times that you are."

He smirked, and I felt my heart flutter a little bit.

"Whatever you say."

I smiled craftily.

"That's right," I replied as I linked arms with him, "whatever I say. And I say that you're worth quite a lot of thought, sir."

He smiled and shook his head slowly.

"You, mademoiselle, are hopeless."

I hit him playfully on the arm. It was time to see if the future Phantom knew how to play.

"Whatever happened to showing promise?"

"Perhaps I've changed my mind…" he said casually.

I stopped and made a face of mock disdain.

"Are you implying, monsieur, that I have no future?"

"With marks like these, who knows?" he replied in a light tone.

"If academia rejects me, then I shall craft my own future!"

"Hmm…that might be hard to do if you get blacklisted…"

"Is that a _threat_?" I questioned with a raise of my eyebrows.

"Perhaps…" he replied thoughtfully, turning the paper with my grades on it over and over in his hand.

"Give me that!"

I lunged at him, but he expected the attack and easily sidestepped my leap.

"Is that truly the best you can do?"

"Oh, you want my _best_, do you?"

Erik chose a direction and ran, staying just out of reach as I chased after him. I came closer and closer to catching him, reaching out and feeling the cloth from his shirt slip through my fingers. Suddenly Erik swerved and touched the air with his hand. A wall materialized between us, forcing me to run around it. As I tried to catch up with him, something itched in the back of my mind. The wall reminded me of something…but what? A memory danced at the edges of my mind, taunting me with dizzying pirouettes and a playful sparkle in its eye. I shook my head to rid myself of the annoying yet somehow seductive display, and the lost memory faded away again with a carefree laugh. Once that nuisance was out of my way, I focused once again on Erik. With newfound determination, I pushed my legs to run faster. Soon he was within my reach, and I once again jumped at him.

"WAAAAH!"

He let out a yell of surprise as we went down together. It all happened very quickly, though each detail stood out as if we were moving in slow motion. Erik instinctively grabbed onto me when he lost his balance and momentarily regained his footing. Meanwhile, the fact that I was still falling caused Erik to fall on top of me. Most would say it was just pure coincidence, but I'm sure that it was nothing less than fate. Wonderful, blessed, crafty fate. When Erik ceased to fall, our lips met in a serene accidental kiss. He immediately jumped up, shock and horror showing in all of his features.

"I-I'm sorry! I-I never meant to…"

He became silent as I rose to my feet. When I reached out to touch him reassuringly on the arm he cringed, habitually expecting a blow to the head or some other form of punishment for touching a lady. I reached up and gently removed his mask and touched his face with a sad smile.

"It's okay, Erik." I said softly, "Relax, hon. You haven't done anything wrong. I know you didn't kiss me on purpose, but even if you had…"

I paused momentarily, trying to fight off the blush that I knew would come anyway.

"Well…that would have been okay too."

I smiled shyly as he looked at me and tilted his head. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again when a distant glow appeared. As it came nearer, the light divided into two spheres. I sighed as I realized that it was time for us to go our separate ways. We had been so close to talking about the possibility of beginning a different kind of relationship, but the moment passed as quickly as it had come. If I was going to get the chance to talk to Erik about my true feelings, then it would have to be at another time. Contrary to my assumptions, we did not completely revert to the careful way that we usually confronted one another. Each time we met, Erik and I were always cautious not to even approach the line that had been drawn between friendship and courting. Now we chanced a secretive glance at one another, and then interlaced our fingers, walking slowly toward the two lights…hand in hand.

We looked at each other as we touched our orbs, the silence echoing with a thousand unspoken thoughts and desires. I woke with the vision of him looking at me ghosting in and out of my sight. All of my senses were still flooded with remnants of him. I could feel his hand in mine and hear his angelic voice tenderly calling my name. For a moment it was almost as if he was still there with me. Then all trace of him vanished, leaving me with naught but a memory, a remembrance as sweet as honey. I called upon it often in daytime hours, when loneliness gripped my longing heart. Life ceased to be my reality, and pains that once troubled me perpetually slowly faded into nothingness. The sparkling riches and praises of the world became worthless and cheap compared to the priceless gold of Erik's eyes. Brilliant colors faded to gray as I came to appreciate the beauty of the void of ebony that had become our haven. Erik's old mask went with me everywhere, serving as a beacon of hope and truth in the smog of deception and violence that forever covers the earth.

This set of mind made my current goal rather complicated. I tried my best to take my mind off of Erik for at least the duration of each school day, and worked hard to raise my grades. This may sound easy, and I truly thought that it would be, but the fact of the matter was that he appeared to be everywhere. The harder I tried to forget him, the more I thought of him. His eyes, his laugh, his smile, the smell that was uniquely him, his lips touching mine…It was so hard to focus when I thought about that. Difficult as it was, I somehow managed to gently nudge Erik's intoxicating presence to the back of my mind. My grades were very appreciative of the effort, and soon they were back in the A and high B range that I was used to. In the meantime, Erik and I kept in touch as much as possible, our bond seeming to grow stronger with each correspondence. We started to gently flirt with one another, my heart turning over in my chest with each little word of praise that floated my way. There was, however, an underlying concern for Erik's wellbeing. The better his image of me became, the more likely it was that he would one day be bitterly disappointed. Erik's physical being also worried me as he informed me of his entrance into Persia.

A- Erik?

E- At your service, mademoiselle.

A- How are things today?

E- Seemingly well so far, though the past few weeks have produced an interesting development.

A- And what would that be?

E- Persia. It appears as though it shall be my home for a while. I'm not certain how well things are going to turn out…

A- I wish I could be there to protect you.

E- No. Even if you were here, I would not let you take any pain and humiliation that might be meant for me. Never again, Anisette. Never.

A- Don't worry, Erik. I'm fine, truly I am. But you must realize that every blow you receive hurts me. There is much suffering that can happen outside of the physical realm, but I know you are already well aware of this.

E- Enough. I will not allow you to be burdened by my own trials. Ignore my pain. Close your eyes and be blind to it as everyone else is.

A- You know I can't do that. I care about you far too much to turn away.

E- I never fathomed that having someone care for you would involve a new and sharper pain. Do not feel sorrow when the world once again shows me it's darker side. It is the only side I had ever known until you came to me. If you truly care, then do as I ask. Your sorrow causes me pain, therefore know no sorrow, and I shall be as well off as I have ever been. In this way there would be less for you to be sorrowful about.

A- Oh, Erik. If only it would work that way. Then you would see that my sorrow is born out of concern and affection, and you would be happy. Unfortunately, my dear friend, the world hates us. Otherwise we would have been born in the same timeframe in the first place. Of course, then I would have been brought up with all the twisted values that people seem to have in your century. Not that mine is all that much better, mind you.

E- No, Anisette, you are deeply mistaken. A heart as pure as yours would not be tainted by something so petty as time.

A- Very flattering, but I'm afraid you've placed me upon a pedestal that I'm not worthy of. I'm merely human, Erik. No more, no less. You've simply been exposed to a lot of people who either have had too good of lives to understand you, or are too frightened to stand up and protest to the things that they know are wrong. People aren't all that bad, Erik. It's just hard to see the good ones sometimes because the others make it hard for them to show themselves. They're afraid of being rejected and put in your position. I'm not saying it's right, because it isn't. It's just the way things are, even in my century.

E- I suppose you're probably right, but it doesn't make things any easier.

A- I know, I'm sorry.

E- You needn't be. There's little you can do to change the way the world sees and thinks, especially since you're one of the rare shining souls who's brave enough to trust the eyes of her heart instead of her jaded physical eyes.

A- Erik, you're doing it again.

E- I can't help it. You're the only one who has possessed the grace to-

A- STOP! Don't write another word! Build me any taller of a pedestal, monsieur architect, and I'm afraid I just might fall off!

E- If you do, then I shall hold out my arms and catch you.

A- Would you truly?

E- Of course.

A- You know, I might jump off just to test you.

E- Feeling a bit impish, are we?

A- Slightly. Why, are you not up to the challenge?

E- Maybe I'll just give you a little push…

A- You wouldn't.

E- Wouldn't I?

A- No, I think not. You like me too much.

E- You catch on fast.

A- Yep.

E- What?

A- It means yes.

E- Ah. I hear footsteps, I should go.

A- I'll talk to you later then.

E- Take care, Anisette.

A- You too.

Yes, things seemed to be going smoothly. It was the calm before the storm. The storm was actually a tornado, and it came through and destroyed what could have been a promising and semi-happy life. It started out just like a real tornado, but instead of air masses meeting, it was conflicting interests. The longer Erik stayed in Persia, the more corrupted his sense of right and wrong became. His interests became like fire, destructive and harmful to not only others, but himself as well. My interests for him were like snow, soft and gentle to the touch, covering up the rough spots and making them look beautiful. I wanted so much for Erik, but I couldn't make him choose the right paths. Regardless of my knowledge of this, I tried anyway. The more I tried to help him, the more irritable he became. It was becoming apparent that I was quickly losing him, and that sent me into panic mode. Our continuous quarrel climaxed one Saturday afternoon. That was a day I would never forget.

A- So, How has your day been? Assassinate anyone today?

E- Several people, actually. I would share the intricate details, but since you don't seem to appreciate the art…

A- The _art_? Erik, you are KILLING people! That's not a good thing!

E- I am merely performing a public service. Just because it happens to go against your strict morals doesn't mean that I am doing something wrong. They are all going to die, regardless of who deals out the last, precise, beautiful blow.

A- You have so much talent, why are you wasting it like this?

E- You truly don't get it, do you? I _like_ what I do. I would probably continue to do it even if I was somehow fired!

A- Don't say that!

E- Why? Oh, that's right. You want me to be happy, but not outside of your limitations.

A- That's not true! You know I only want what's best for you.

E- Anisette, you are not my mother, you are my friend, though I hesitate to call you that after the attitude you have taken as of late. I don't need you to stand around holding my hand, I'm a grown man for heaven's sake!

A- Are you telling me to leave you alone, Erik? Are you sure that's what you want? Last time you were all by yourself in life, your future wasn't looking all that bright. And as for being a man, you have a lot of maturing to do before you'll be worthy of that title.

E- So it's come to this. I never thought I'd see that day that you were against me.

A- Stop acting like the victim, it doesn't become you.

E- You seemed to think differently when I was caged like an animal. Perhaps that is what you want, for me to be caged so that I'll always need you, always want you around. Well I won't have it! I'm done with you. I've outgrown you, Anisette, and now all you are to me is a nuisance! I don't have time to put up with you anymore. I never really did, but I thought perhaps I would humor you in order to gain whatever advantage I could from your willingness to do anything for me. Unfortunately, you proved to be more than useless, and have now progressed to being a hindrance. I bid you farewell, and send my most sincere sympathy for whomever you now choose to annoy.

I had never been so insulted in my life! Slamming the diary shut, I chucked it across the room so that it hit the wall with a violent 'thwack!'. If he wanted to be left alone, then I would be more than happy to oblige! The brat tried to get me to believe that our whole relationship was a scam. Well, I wouldn't believe it. His golden eyes had held too much pain and gratitude each time we met. He couldn't possibly have faked all of that. Could he? My mind wandered to all the different traps he would set for people over the years, and all the other scams that he somehow managed to pull off. Erik was obviously a good actor, and I had always known that he was far more intelligent than anyone else I had ever known. It was quite possible that he had used me to get out of the tough situations presented in his youth. Had he ever really needed me at all? He said that he hadn't. I was annoying to him, just an overprotective suit that he could dispose of at will. Not that I hadn't been disposed of before, my classmates had made it a sort of game to see who could fool me the best. This was different than that, though. The idea that the one person I had ever truly loved had just dismissed me like a servant…it made me sick.

I slept fitfully that night, fighting off dreams filled with his cruel laughter. Each day seemed to drain energy and happiness from my core. I hadn't worried about the stares and rude comments I received from my peers since Erik and I had started taking to each other, but now they drilled straight through me and into my heart. After a few days, I couldn't take any more. I curled up on my bed and hugged my pillow, trying my best not to cry, but failing. I automatically picked up the diary from where it lay on the floor and sat back down on my bed. It was only then that I remembered Erik's words. Should I try to contact him? Before, every correspondence had come naturally, like there was a hidden calendar somewhere that said when Erik and I would write to one another. This time I simply stared at the leather cover, wondering if I should even open the accursed thing. Life had been fairly tolerable before Erik came along. It had seemed even more wonderful when he entered my life, but had it really been the blessing I always assumed it to be? At that moment it seemed more like a plague, a disease that left me worse off than I had been before. I had always thought that I'd been born in the wrong century, and that Erik was my soul mate. Why else would the mirror have showed me living a happy life with him? Maybe it just showed me what I wanted to see, including the vision that was supposed to have been Erik's desire. Maybe Gaston Leroux had been wrong too. Erik didn't seem to be the person that he was portrayed as in the book. I didn't feel sorry for him anymore, and he certainly wasn't the gentleman I had read about!

He was only eighteen. I let out a shaky breath as I remembered this seemingly insignificant detail. Lots of people were snotty and arrogant at that age, why should it be any different back in his day? Perhaps I was jumping to conclusions, and should just chill out for a little while. After all, I had met Erik when he was quite young. He couldn't just shrug and shove all those years aside, as if they meant nothing. Erik could spit on our relationship all he wanted to, but I refused to believe that he had just completely turned his back on me. I took his mask out from the compartment in the head of my bed and gently ran my fingertips over the surface. We made a promise to one another that strange night, a pact saying that we would always be there for one another. Something told me that he would honor that promise.

I opened the diary to the bookmarked page that would show where our argument stopped. That page was full, and so I simply turned to the next one. For a moment I didn't comprehend what I saw. I flipped the pages faster and faster until I reached the back of the book and then repeated the action. Each page after the argument, ones that should have been blank and slightly yellowed with age, was black. I ran my hand over one of them, trying to understand. My mind had known immediately what had happened, but my heart refused to accept it. Erik had gone through, either with a paintbrush or by dipping the pages consecutively, and covered each page with ink. He had known that I would get the message. They weren't just inked out pages, but rather possibilities. Each blank spot where a word could have gone was now unavailable. Either one of us could have stuck a spare piece of paper in and written on it, but that wasn't the mood that had been set. Still, I had to try. I threw books over my shoulder as I frantically searched my bookcase for scrap paper, deaf to their cries as the awkward positions they landed in caused their pages to bend. Finally my fingers brushed up against a stack of paper, and I violently jerked it toward me. I ignored the blood dripping from the paper cut I had just received and scribbled a quick note, hands shaking.

A- Erik? Please don't do this. Let's just talk. I won't be so hard on you anymore, I promise!

Nothing. For a month I wrote him notes, first asking for communication…

A- Please? I really need to talk to you.

then begging…

A- Erik, I'm not doing too well here. I need you.

then resignedly asking for nothing more than acknowledgment that I existed.

A- If you're getting these, just put a note in that says yes. That's all I'm asking.

Yes, for a month I wrote, and not just once in a while. I wrote Erik every blessed day that month, sometimes more if something came up and I felt the extra need to talk. Forty-seven. That was the exact number of notes. Some of them were just a sentence or so, others were a page or more. Whatever I wanted to say to him, I wrote. There was no more nagging about the assassinations and opiates, because I didn't care anymore. He could live his life any way he wanted, just as long as he let me be in it. After a month, there was nothing remaining of my heart. I had given every ounce of my heart to him in my notes, and he refused to receive it. Therefore, my heart lay abandoned inside the notes, wherever they had gone. Perhaps he had taken them out of the diary and burned them, I didn't know. Everything grew cold after that; the sun, warm summer nights, a friend or family member's loving embrace, my eyes, my soul…all like ice. My passions were gone, and I moved away from everything and everyone familiar to me as soon as I graduated from high school. The old me had died, and so a new person was crafted from the ice. No one liked her, but she didn't care. She was a factory worker, where she came into contact only with gears and machinery that were as cold as her. Friends and family used to call her Annie, but now she was called nothing but Ms. Rousseau. Ms. Rousseau…the woman of ice.


	7. Bittersweet Birthday

My thirty-first birthday was today. I sighed as I dug through my purse, searching for the keys to my apartment. The factory had been a mess today, the machinery malfunctioning in almost every department. Our mechanics had worked on it for hours, and were probably still doing so. Not much was accomplished today other than finding out who could keep their cool and who had an Irish temper. It had been slightly entertaining to see the boss firing people who got in his face, but it also served as a reminder of how bad the economy was. So many people had been laid off lately, and our equipment barely passed inspection. That was the main reason for the breakdown. Our employer kept a tight budget, so gears and other parts that should have probably been replaced a long time ago were still in use. I had been cramming as much work as I could into my nine-to-five shift, trying to impress my boss so that I wouldn't get fired. I still seemed to get 'the look', so I had no choice but to start working overtime. Unfortunately, I wasn't getting paid extra for that overtime, so I was still as bad off financially as before. Nowadays I could barely pay my rent, and food supplies had to last longer than they should have. I could have asked my parents for a loan, but then the dreaded conversation would arise. Every time I called to check up on them (which was about once every two weeks), I got hammered with the same old questions. 'When are you coming home for a visit?' 'How are things going, honey?' 'Your friends miss you, why don't you call them?' Then there was the dreaded 'Why did you leave in such a hurry?' 'Did we do something wrong?' 'Don't you want to talk about it?' No, as a matter of fact, I did NOT want to talk about _it_. I had been blocking off that part of my life so that I wouldn't have to think about _it, _and that method had worked extraordinarily well so far.

The lock clicked and I opened the door. My apartment actually only consisted of two rather small rooms. I had a small area that served as a kitchen, which contained counters, three cabinets, a rather junky stove, a tiny refrigerator, and a really old microwave. There was a couch that I slept on in the empty space outside of the kitchen. It was so worn out when I bought it that it gave no support to the person who was sitting on it, and every night I felt the stiff wood digging into my body. I also had my iPod dock, which served as speakers for the device and as a radio. The only area of the apartment that was closed off completely was the bathroom, which was probably the best looking spot in the little place I called home. I didn't let my parents know how bad off I was, because I knew that they would insist on my moving back home. It wasn't that I didn't want to go home, because I did. Every time I fixed myself a pathetic excuse for a meal, I longed for just a bite of one my mom's home cooked dishes. My old bed seemed to call my name, reaching out to me with its soft mattress and sturdy springs.

I was pulled out of my memories as I squinted to see where I needed to step. I always left a small lamp on so that I didn't come home and fall over one of the few pieces of furniture I owned, but either I had forgotten to turn it on before I left or the bulb had burned out.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Suddenly, the lights came on and revealed four people I hadn't seen in forever, standing around a table and smiling. The table (I didn't own one, so one of them had to have brought it) had several neatly wrapped presents on it, and a cake with glowing candles on it. There were random party things strung throughout the room, with a big banner that said 'Happy Birthday Annie!' on it.

"I baked the caaaaake!" Lyssa sang.

"Decorations were my department!" Katie said with a little dance.

"I did the planning!" Brea said with a sly smile.

"I drove all of us up here!" Kristen said with a little laugh.

Then we partied. We joked and laughed like absolutely nothing had changed…and maybe it hadn't. Lyssa was still the quirky one, Katie still loved interior design and decorating, Brea still knew how to party with the best of them, and Kristen was still the queen of fashion.

I smiled at my friends, feeling truly happy for once in a very long time. How long had it been since I could honestly say I was happy? How long had it been since anyone had called me Annie? Too gosh darn long! Who says that you can't separate some parts of your life and keep others? With that, I announced that I was coming home. Everyone cheered and cracked open another can of pop. Shortly afterward, I got on the phone and called my parents. It was late at night, and at first they were concerned that something was wrong. When I told them the news, my mom started crying and my dad became speechless. After a moment, they started chattering away about how my room was just the way I had left it and what all we would do to celebrate my homecoming. My mouth watered as I listened to my mom listing the contents of my welcome-home dinner. As the pop started to wear off, my friends and I began to pass out one by one into the land of slumber. When I was the only one awake, I crept over to the closet and pulled out the small box of stuff I had brought along from home. I had brought it, but for some reason had never opened it. Maybe it was just lack of time, or perhaps I forgot that it was there. I was curious as to what was in the box, because I couldn't remember what I had packed!

The cardboard squeaked slightly and I looked around, a bit afraid that I would be caught. I wasn't ashamed of looking, but I didn't want to have the box's contents paraded around and exclaimed over like the belongings of some dead entity. The more I thought about it, the stronger the feeling became that I _was_ looking at a dead person's things. It was a bit sad to think that the old me would never come back. I could try to revive her, but that presented some pretty scary possibilities. I could feel that the ice around my heart and soul had melted, which felt wonderful. Beauty once again could be found in life, and I could enjoy it without feeling strange. Yes, much of the old me had returned, but there was a large part that remained dead and frozen. That part I refused to touch, and was determined to sever once and for all. Only then could I feel completely at peace. If I even attempted to thaw out that part of me, the pain and sorrow would destroy everything. My choices were either to forget it and move on, or bring it back into focus and lose myself. For my sake and for that of my friends and family, I would obviously choose the former.

The contents of the box weren't all that surprising. A couple of my favorite books, a list of addresses and phone numbers just in case I had ever been able to face my friends again, some loose pieces of jewelry, some pictures, all normal things that I slowly began to remember tossing in. Then I got to the bottom. The two things were together, which didn't come as much of a shock. What did nearly make me scream was the simple fact that they were in there at all. I knew that I hadn't packed them, why would I? If you want to forget something ever happened, you don't bring along solid evidence to the contrary. For example, if I wanted to forget that the person I once cared very deeply about ever existed, I would not pack the mask he gave me. Most of all I CERTAINLY would NOT pack the diary we wrote each other in. But somehow, by some impossible means, both items were there…in the box…in my apartment…in my life.

That was the moment everything came crashing down on me. It really wasn't as bad as I had thought it would be. Mostly I was just _really_ _mad_. Furious, in fact. I raised my hand to throw the diary against the wall, lowered it to keep from waking anyone, and shook the blasted thing while glaring at it, hoping that it would just spontaneously combust. As I shook it, something dropped into my lap. I squeaked and hopped up, brushing my pants as if they had been contaminated with some foreign chemical. Crouching low, I carefully picked up the folded piece of yellowed paper. I peeked inside without unfolding it and groaned loudly when I saw the handwriting.

"Not again!" I exclaimed.

My face hardened. No, not again. Not ever. He had taken advantage of me all he wanted last time, but now I was putting my foot down. If he had written me back when I was on my knees begging him to, then maybe. But that ship had long since sailed off into the horizon and gotten ripped apart by a hurricane, never to return.

I rose to my feet and marched into the bathroom.

"I'm sorry, but the number you have reached is about to have a life again. Please hang up and go find another puppet." I sneered.

I unfolded the note, crumpled it into a ball, and shot it into the trashcan.

"And she scoooooores!"

The words weren't spoken in excitement, but were flat and void of any emotion except perhaps weariness. I didn't wish him any ill will any longer, I just wanted to move on.

"What on earth _are_ you doing?"

That was Kristen's voice! I turned to see four heads stuck in the bathroom doorway, squinting at me with confused expressions on their faces and rubbing their eyes sleepily. Blood rushed to my face.

"H-how much of that did you hear?"

"I think we all woke up when we heard a noise like an oversized mouse getting thrown through the air…" Brea said with a raise of her eyebrows.

Knowing Brea, she was probably never asleep in the first place. The girl never did keep normal hours…

"So…umm…I guess you'll be wanting the _truth_ then?" I said weakly.

"That would be the preferred answer, yeah." Kristen said with a yawn.

"Um…duh?" Lyssa said with a little smile and a roll of her eyes.

Taking a deep breath, I walked out of the bathroom.

"In order for you to understand, and more importantly to believe me, I need to show you something."

I then proceeded to show them the mask and diary.

"You can read the first two entries, but I would prefer it if you didn't go any further." I said nervously, "The story I'm about to outline for you isn't completely mine to tell, which is why you'll notice a lot of missing details."

They nodded and huddled together so that everyone could see. I watched as their expressions changed, trying to guess which part they were reading. Finally, they all looked up at me with large eyes.

"What happened?" they all said at once.

I smiled. This was why I loved my friends so dearly. They were always there for me, and never questioned what I told them to be true. My smile faded as I remembered what I had to tell them now.

"We got into an argument. I was trying to protect his morals, and he didn't want any of it. He took it as me butting in, and then jumped to the conclusion that I only wanted him to be happy through me. I tried to contact him many times over the next month, but he ignored me. We haven't spoken since, but now after all this time, he's sent me some sort of note…"

Brea leapt up from the floor and pranced into the bathroom. She returned momentarily, the wad of paper in her hand. It glided through the air as she tossed it to me.

"So…" Katie started, "what are you going to do?"

I sighed and looked down at the paper in my lap. The decision wasn't as easy as I had thought it would be.

"What would you guys do?" I asked, looking around at them.

"All in favor of ignorance?" Brea said solemnly.

The women all raised their hands.

"Let's see just how sorry he is for what he's done to you." Lyssa replied.

The others nodded in agreement, but I found myself shaking my head.

"I can't do it." I said softly, "I want to, but I just can't. Regardless of how he viewed our relationship, I cared too much about him to just ignore him now."

They all looked at me with pity in their eyes. I knew that they would be with me, no matter what my decision was. Why was it so difficult for me to read what he wrote? Moreover, why couldn't I even think his name, not to mention say it? My thoughts wandered back to the time before we met, when he would be the last thing I thought about before going to sleep each night. I closed my eyes and remembered…remembered how often I would whisper 'I love you, Erik.' into the darkness just before dozing off. I had thought all feelings I had once held for him had died, but perhaps not. Maybe he and I would survive this after all, and everything would be normal again.

"All right, Erik," I whispered, "but after all I've been through…this had better be good."

I opened the note.

Dearest Anisette,

I would apologize for my treatment of you, but I'm afraid there just aren't enough words in my vocabulary. What I said and did…it was deplorable. You were right, Anisette. It all added up, and now I've lost everything because I refused to listen to you. I suppose you knew this was coming, knew that I would fall in love with Christine only to lose her. I should have trusted you, trusted your judgment, but I didn't. It seems Erik has driven away the only people who might have cared about him. He doesn't ask anything of you, Anisette, not even forgiveness. Erik only wants you to know that he was lying that night, that your presence in his life has meant more to him than anything. You never abandoned Erik, even after he broke his promise to you. There is a pocket in the back of the book that he used to seal something inside. He knows won't have the chance to give it to you later.

-Erik Destler, June 1881

By the end of the note, tears were streaming rapidly down my face. I hadn't truly remembered how much I missed Erik until that moment.

"Could one of you get me paper and a pen, please?" I asked my friends with a small smile.

"I've got it!" Brea replied as she hopped up.

Of course she would have paper! Breanna, poet and storywriter, would always have paper squirreled away somewhere on her person. I picked up the diary and mask. The mask I laid down on the table, but I sat down on the couch with the diary in my hand. While Brea searched her purse for the pen and paper we all knew was in there SOMEWHERE, I thought I'd just look and see what Erik sent me. I carefully tore off the piece of parchment he had used to seal the object safely inside the diary, and saw a flash of gold as said item fell into my hand. Immediately I knew what it was. I had long since memorized the trinket's design, the way it felt in my hand. The question was, why would Erik give me back my locket in this fashion if there were a chance we would meet again. And then I knew. I stood slowly, trying to block out what my mind was screaming at me. It was no use. The tone of the letter, the fact that Erik had given me back what he knew to be a very dear possession, the part where he had said we wouldn't see each other again…it all added up. My entire body shook as I glanced in dread at the date he had written…June 1881. The confirmation caused me to feel light headed. I grabbed the edge of the couch, but it was no use. Blackness overtook my vision, as I passed out from shock. Erik…was dying.


	8. Stop, Drop, and Run

I opened my eyes, and saw darkness. Understanding where I was, I frantically began to look around for any sign of life.

"Erik?" I called worriedly.

No one answered, and I burst into tears.

"I'm too late..." I whispered in horror.

As I covered my face with my hands, the tips of my fingers brushed across the scar I had once received while protecting him. We had been through so much in the relatively short period of time that we had been together. How was it possible for one issue to break that bond? It wasn't fair! I still loved Erik, though only as an old friend rather than in the romantic sense. Now I had lost him...forever. I sobbed harder at the thought of that word. Erik and I had said 'forever', but it just wasn't true. I would have given anything at that moment to see my friend just one more time, anything and everything.

"You're not too late."

The voice was definitely familiar, but I couldn't think of who its owner was. I turned and saw the old man that had once helped Erik and I.

"Who are you? What do you mean, it's not too late?"

He smiled at me gently and held out a small piece of paper.

"This has an address on it. Go there, and the man who answers the door will be able to help you."

I stared at him for a moment, and then took the paper, barely daring to hope.

"So he's...still alive?" I asked softly.

"Yes," he replied solemnly, "but if you wish for him to stay that way, you must go to the address when you wake, and then leave immediately from there."

Time froze for a moment as I tried to process the man's statement.

"Leave?" I asked, "Where am I going?

He looked at me, surprise written all over his face.

"Do you not wish to see him again?"

My adrenalin started pumping, my mind guessing and hoping where the conversation was headed.

"Of course I want to see him again. But how will whomever lives at this address be able to help me do that?"

The man sighed and looked at me pointedly, a look I certainly hadn't expected from one so old. "You already know what's going to happen, Anisette. A better question to ask would be 'what should I pack' or 'how will I return'..."

A far away look entered his eye, and for a moment I knew he was somewhere else. I cleared my throat and he snapped back to the present.

"I don't mean to be rude, but am I not in a hurry?"

As soon as I finished my sentence, I was slowly opening my eyes to see my group of friends leaning over me, concern in their eyes.

"What was THAT all about?" Brea asked.

I was silent for a moment, still attempting to get a bearing on my surroundings. Apparently no one had thought to read the note Erik sent me. Either that or they wanted to respect my privacy. I decided to go with the latter.

"He's..."

My head started spinning again at the thought. I swallowed and took several deep breaths, then started again.

"He's dying."

They all looked at me in shock. I ignored their expressions and read the scrap of paper in my hand. A laugh burst from my lips as I saw where the address was located. It seemed as though I would be devastatingly close to my parents' house, within a half-hour's drive. So close...yet so far. I couldn't go see them. What could I do to make sure that they didn't worry? Maybe my friends could help with that.

I told them what I had to do. The reactions I received were interesting. I didn't know what to expect, so it felt like I was playing with a bomb. Kristen and Katie were sad, yet mostly understanding. Brea was a bit fussy. She was missing out on an awesome adventure, and she knew it. Ever since her husband had shipped out with his unit, she had been antsy, wanting him home. Brea was torn momentarily between mother mode, protecting her son who wanted to be a soldier like his father, and best friend mode, supporting me as she always had. Not that the others weren't tempted to do the same, but Brea had a wild streak that made her more likely to do so without much needed thought. Then there was Lyssa. She knew she couldn't and wouldn't leave her child and significant other, but didn't accept the situation as the others did.

"What do you mean, you've got to go to him? He pretty much ruined your life! Forget him! Stay here with people who actually give a-"

I held up my hand to prevent the oncoming stream of curses, and felt her glare burning a hole in my palm.

"NO!" she yelled as she pulled my hand down, "I won't be quiet! You're my friend and I'm not going to risk losing you to someone who's only ever cared about himself and a different woman! You don't even know if you'll be able to come back at all!"

The thought of not returning stunned me for a moment, as I hadn't considered it as a possibility. Regardless, I shook off my momentary hesitation and gave Lyssa a hug. Even my best friends wouldn't be able to change my mind, no matter what approach they took. I picked up my locket and put it around my neck. It seemed to give me the strength to do what I needed to do.

"Erik and I made a pact." I told Lyssa, "Just because he didn't keep his part doesn't mean I should do the same."

I looked around my apartment, wondering what I should take with me. Brea got into my closet and retrieved a small bag for me to put a few things in. I threw one outfit of comfortable clothing into the bag, just in case I needed it. I couldn't very well wear modern day clothes when I went out in public, so I'd have to find another outfit when I got there. It wasn't like I needed to pack for a very long trip, since I didn't plan to be gone very long. A smaller bag filled with toiletries went into the bag as well. I threw in two of my favorite novels and started digging through a box for an item I knew would come in handy. While searching, I threw in a couple of over the counter medicines and a flashlight. Finally I found the object I had been looking for. I put the solar charger in the bag, and gently laid the diary and mask in as well. My friends stared at the bag as I zipped it shut and slung it over my shoulder. I could tell that they all wished themselves into the bag as well. After hugging each of them, I grabbed my iPod, slipped it into my pocket and began walking out the door.

I turned slowly back toward my friends, a plan hatching in my head. Why did we have to be completely separated? If Erik still had the journal in his century, which he obviously did, then I could use it to communicate with my pals! I skipped back to stand in front of four very confused buddies, and handed them the diary. At first they all just stared at it, then a hand shot out and snatched it from me. Brea started jumping up and down in excitement, diary in her hands. A moment later light bulbs went on over the others' heads, and we all exchanged high-fives. We laughed at ourselves, but there were silent fears in the back of my head. What if the old man had been wrong? I couldn't bear the thought of seeing Erik dead. Even worse, what if I couldn't save him? No, I couldn't think that way. I was just as stubborn as he, so I just simply would refuse to let him go. Nevertheless, these thoughts made me nervous. I went to give my girls one last hug, but Kristen and Katie grabbed my arms and sat me down on the couch. Evidently an unspoken vote had been taken, and we were all riding to the address together.

So there we were, rolling down the interstate at two o' clock in the morning and talking about old times. Sadly, I was only halfway paying attention, constantly rubbing Erik's note between my fingers in anxiety. Being my best friends, they all noticed after a minute or two.

"So how do you feel about him?" Katie asked.

The others turned their heads a little bit so that they could hear my response. I thought about it for a moment, and then realized that I really didn't know the answer to her question. Shrugging, I told them how mixed my thoughts and feelings toward Erik truly were.

"I have no idea what to think or feel, because I haven't done either about him ever since he abandoned me. Obviously I still care, because otherwise I'd just ignore him. I guess that a lot of it will depend on his attitude when I show up. If he's arrogant and ungrateful, which will most likely be the case, then I won't feel bad about just burning the diary and moving on with my life this time. On the other hand, if he decides to show a little bit of regret for what he did, then maybe our relationship can begin to heal."

They all nodded in agreement, and I smiled. It was doubtful that we would ever grow out of tune with one another.

Using MapQuest, we had located the mystery person's address and were following the driving directions from Kristen's laptop. I tried to doze off, but my eyes felt like they had been wired open. How many nights had it been since I'd gotten any sleep? A lot, that was for sure. It seemed like forever until we got to our destination, and I repeatedly chastised myself for moving so far away from home. Of course, that had been the goal at the time, but my mind wasn't interested in facts like that. I kept repeating the words 'he'll be all right' in my head over and over, willing them to be true. As soon as the car stopped, I had the door open. Everyone else got out of the car at a normal pace, and hugged me goodbye with the assurance that I would see them soon. I watched the vehicle disappear into the early morning darkness, then flew up the stairs and started banging on the door until I thought it would break. As soon as the lights went on inside the house, I noticed the doorbell. Oh well, this had been an emergency. The door opened and a man approximately my own age stepped out, fully dressed and smiling.

"Hello, Anisette. I must say, you're earlier than I had expected. No matter, I'm ready for you."

I couldn't help but stare at him.

"You know my name?" I asked in shock, "How did you know I was coming?"

He chuckled and I saw a strange gleam in his eyes…which were somehow familiar.

"Let's not waste time with that, shall we? I'll only tell you that I gave you the diary. I doubt you would remember…"

"I do remember. Not that I understand how you remember my name or how you are involved in any of this, but it's not important right now. How do I get there?"

He held up a finger and grabbed a bag sitting on a desk that was right inside the door. Then he gently took me by the arm and started guiding me down the street at a brusque pace. He pointed at a building and put the bag he had retrieved into my hand.

"Go to that building. There's someone in there that can get you where you need to go. This bag has money in it that will be appropriate for the time period, should you need to shop."

The last words he spoke to me were those concerning the different types of coinage of that era. After he was sure that I halfway understood and had checked to see if the paper he had written the information on was in the bag as well, the man started walking back to his house. I peered down the road in both directions and didn't see any headlights, so I quickly crossed the road. Something happened. My body didn't feel right. A voice spoke to me, but I couldn't tell what it was saying. I tried to open my mouth to tell the person to stop mumbling, but couldn't move my lips…or my arms…or my legs. Panic filled my mind, and I tried again and again to move any part of my body. Everything was spinning so fast, I could only see colors. I found I could blink, so I slammed my eyes shut and prayed for it all to stop.

After a minute, I was able to move again. I put my hands on the ground to help provide leverage so that I could get up, but paused. The material beneath my hands was wood, not pavement. I opened my eyes, but that didn't help much. A light shone from underneath what I guessed was a door, so I slowly rose to my feet and opened it. I was in someone's house. My first thought was that the man had carried me back into his home after whatever had happened. Then another door opened, and I almost fainted. Erik stood there in the doorway, glaring (the candlelight flickered so I could see his eyes), lasso in hand. Next thing I knew, he was shouting random gibberish at me. I wasn't really paying all that much attention to the French he assumed I understood, because I was too shocked at the sight of him. Not only did he seem to be perfectly fine, but he had also aged remarkably well! It was like he had walked right out of my memories. Finally I came out of my reverie and decided to put an end to the French.

"Umm…English, please?"

Erik paused only for a moment before resuming his rant.

"Who are you? How did you get in here? What-"

"Woah, woah, woah!" I interrupted, "Are you saying that _you don't know who I am_?"

He stared at me for a moment.

"No, Mademoiselle, I do not." he replied in an irritated voice, "Now would you be so kind as to answer my questions?"

I sighed in exasperation and unzipped my bag. It fell from my hands as Erik grabbed my arms and attempted to move them behind my back. Out of sheer annoyance, I fought back. I wrestled with him a bit until I was able to grab his arms and shove him up against the wall. The struggle hadn't lasted very long, and my heart rate had barely gone up. Erik, on the other hand, was a mess. He was nearly gasping for breath, and I felt him shaking from the strain of the fight. I immediately released him and he backed away from me.

"Oh, Erik…" I said quietly.

He jumped, not expecting to hear his name.

"Who…are…you?" he said between breaths.

I reached down and pulled his old mask out of my bag. Erik held his breath for a moment, looking at it and then slowly bringing his eyes up to look at me.

"A-Anisette…" he said in soft wonder.

I saw him swaying and rushed forward to catch him before he hit the floor.

Gently lowering him to the ground, I laid Erik's head in my lap. His back arched with every breath and his eyelids fluttered as he began to fall unconscious. I hurriedly unbuttoned his jacket and removed his mask. He shook as his breathing became shallow, his body too weak to take the deep inhales that he needed. I panicked, not knowing what to do. With no better ideas, I conjured up all the hurt and anger from his abandonment of me, and smacked him across the face as hard as I thought necessary. The shock caused Erik to take a deep breath, and I apologized over and over as his breathing returned to normal. He smiled up at me weakly and I was struck speechless. It had been so long since I had seen his smile, that I'd almost forgotten how happy it made me. I smiled back and helped him to his feet. He held up his hand in protest when I tried to take his arm, determined to stand on his own strength. Unfortunately, he didn't have any strength left to stand on. His legs buckled out from underneath him, and his arms shot out to steady himself on me right as mine went out to catch him. The result brought us face to face, and Erik looked away in embarrassment.

I helped him stand again, and he leaned on me heavily as I escorted him to bed. He started to walk in one direction, but I pulled him toward the room I had appeared in.

"Err…you're going the wrong way, Anisette." he said confusedly.

I firmly led him onward.

"No," I replied in a semi-stern voice, "I'm not. I know you've been sleeping in a coffin, Erik, and don't think for one minute that I'm going to let you keep doing it either!"

He opened his mouth as if to protest, but closed it when I glared at him. The Phantom of the Opera could flaunt his reputation all he wanted. Even though he was older than me now, we both knew that didn't mean anything, and he _was_ going to do as I told him. Things were going to change, and the first matter of business was getting Erik well again. Sleeping in a coffin was certainly not going to put him in the right mood, so he would sleep in the only room in the house that had a bed…Christine's room. It wasn't the ideal spot to be sure, but I certainly wasn't going to put Erik on the couch! He needed decent sleep, and if the only room that offered it was that of his lost love, then so be it. I wasn't going to let him sulk. It was plain to see that she had hurt him deeply, but there was no way I was going to let her memory get between us. I wasn't being prideful or trying to fool myself into thinking that I could take her place, but the fact of the matter was that I was the only one who could help Erik. Getting him to fall in love with me could come later…maybe.

He froze when we reached the doorway, and I moved to stand in front of him.

"You can do this." I said confidently.

"No, I can't."

Erik's voice shook, and his body started trembling again from fear. I took his face gently in my hands.

"Look at me." I said softly.

The sorrow and terror in his glistening golden eyes almost made me lose it. How could I pretend that I didn't want to cry too? Because that's what he needed, that's how. Erik saw the strength in my eyes and drew from it. We walked into Christine's room and I helped him get into bed. He sighed in relief as he began to slip into a deep sleep, and I sat down beside him.

"You came." he whispered, only half-awake.

I smiled and stroked his cheek with the back of my hand. Anyone else might not have noticed, but to me the sleepless circles beneath Erik's eyes were as plain as if they'd been painted in black. Everything about him screamed exhaustion and lack of a will to live. The rest of the night ( or was it morning? I couldn't really tell underground) watching him slowly slip away. Finally I decided to wake him up. I had had enough. His eyes opened slowly, and I could tell he wasn't focusing.

"Christine?" he asked groggily.

I grabbed him by the shirt, shook him slightly and started yelling at the top of my lungs.

"ERIK DESTLER, I DID NOT COME HERE TO BURY YOU!"

The shock of being yelled at jerked Erik the rest of the way awake. He became embarrassed as he realized what he had called me, but a quirky sort of smile came over his face when he looked my way.

"Did-Did you just _yell_ at me for wanting to die?" he asked.

I crossed my arms and struck a pouting pose. One minute he was on the edge of death, the next he was making fun of me. Typical Erik. I felt his hands on my shoulders as he gently turned me around. He stood straight and strong on his own two legs, smiling at me.

"How do you _do_ that?" I asked in amazement.

"Do what?" he asked confusedly.

I stared at him for a moment, and then chuckled.

"Never mind," I said with a smile, "it's most likely just one of the many Erik-isms that I shall never understand."

He raised his eyebrows.

"_Erik-isms_? What on earth is that?"

I couldn't help but burst out laughing at the look on his face.

How had I forgotten this...the feeling of comfort and belonging that I always had while with him? It washed over me like a spring rain. Feeling deeply touched by the moment, I wrapped my arms around his waist and laid my head on his chest.

"I missed you..." I whispered longingly.

He stood still for a moment, not knowing how to respond. Then, some part of his brain remembered from before, and he pulled me closer in a hug.

"I have missed you as well."

I smiled and closed my eyes, wishing that the moment would last forever. If only I hadn't insisted he stop the murders, perhaps the vision in the mirror would have come true. Now the only thing to do was help him out as best I could and return home where I belonged. That _was_ where I belonged...wasn't it? Standing there in Erik's arms, I wasn't so sure. What if this was our chance to be together? Somehow I doubted that I'd be able to return to Erik's century again after I went back to my own. People couldn't just travel back and forth between centuries as often as they pleased. What was I saying? Time travel didn't happen _period_! I didn't even have any guarantee that what I was experiencing was real. As always, I somehow knew that everything was indeed truly happening. Perhaps it was because my dreams had never produced that much detail.

We casually pulled apart from one another, and I attempted to stifle a yawn. I failed.

"You are exhausted, Anisette, why don't you rest?" he said gently.

A smile played upon my lips.

"Perhaps because I'm trying to keep you off your deathbed?" I said sarcastically.

He rolled his eyes and placed a hand on my back, pushing me toward the bed.

"The beloved heroine has completed her quest," he stated in an exaggerated tone, "and now she retires for a well-deserved sleep."

I raised my eyebrows.

"_Beloved heroine_?" I questioned, "What if this beloved heroine doesn't want to sleep?"

He smiled mischievously, and I barely had time to blink before he had scooped me up in his arms and twirled around in a circle.

"Oh, no!" he said in mock horror, "The poor woman has been abducted by the Phantom, whatever shall we do?"

"Erik Destler, you put me down right now before you hurt yourself!"

My scolding did no good, as I was laughing and smiling. He gently laid me down on the bed and covered me with the blankets.

This was far from being the Phantom that Leroux had written about, the murdering apparition that everyone hated and feared. This was Erik…my Erik. Was he truly only like this around me? If only everyone else could see him as I did. Erik was so sweet and kind, any woman would be lucky to catch his eye. But no, the world refused to look past his appearance. Fine, I would keep this treasure to myself. No one else seemed interested, and Erik's obsession over Christine was sure to die down now that she was gone. I didn't expect him to get over her all in one day, but maybe if I tried hard and long enough…maybe he would start to forget. With every word and every touch, I would try to erase her memory. He was intoxicated with her the same way that I used to be intoxicated with him. All of his senses screamed her name, but she refused to answer. Whether or not I could distract Erik from that path long enough to get his attention, I didn't know. Based on what had just happened, I thought I had a fair chance of at least receiving acknowledgement for my efforts. He smiled at me as he left the room, unaware of the encouragement he had just given me.

"Thank you, Anisette…" he said softly, "for everything."

I smiled at him and drifted off to sleep shortly after he shut the door. Little did I know...my life was about to get VERY complicated…


	9. An Unexpected Visitor

I woke up and rolled over with a sigh. How long had it been since I had slept that well? Years. The bed was soft and comfortable, and the blankets were light but warm. I yawned sleepily as I sat up and tried to make my brain function a bit more quickly. Lying on the nightstand was Erik's copy of the diary, and underneath it was a pile of parchment and a small note. It was of course from Erik, and told me to use it if I wished to contact my friends. I smiled at the realization that I hadn't even told him my plans. Great minds did indeed think alike! I picked up the diary and started writing on one of the loose pieces of paper.

Anisette- Hello? Anyone there?

Brea- Boo.

Anisette- Haha, very funny. Everyone all right in the future?

Brea- Yep. So you actually made it?

Anisette- Yes, but don't ask me how. I made it and more importantly I made it in time to help Erik. He should be okay now.

Brea- That's good. Tell him we said hi.

Anisette- I shall! Are the other girls with you?

Lyssa- You suck.

Anisette- I'll take that as a yes. Jealous much?

Lyssa- Nope.

Anisette- Liar. So, how's the family? Didn't get the chance to hear much about them.

Lyssa- Whitney, mah wife, is fine, as is Tristan. He's four years old now, you know.

Anisette- Really? Time flies when you're trying to forget the past.

Lyssa- Pft! You went from trying to forget the past to freaking traveling to it! As I stated earlier, you suuuuuuck.

Anisette- And you're just jealous that you couldn't come along. Now, are Kristen and Katie there? I don't mean to rush, but I want to save parchment for emergencies.

Katie & Kristen- Yes.

Anisette- Wow. Not exactly what I had in mind, but I guess it'll save paper!

K&K- So, any sign of Christine or Raoul yet?

Anisette- No, and I hope I never see either one of them. It would be bad manners to kill someone within twenty-four hours of arriving here, don't you think?

K&K- Sure, Annie. Whatever you say.

Anisette- Okay, so I wouldn't really kill them. Just imagine it in my head. Anyway, how are your husbands and children?

K&K- They're doing okay. The kids are in their first year of elementary school together.

Anisette- Cool! I can't wait to see how much they've grown since the last time you guys sent me pictures.

K&K- You actually looked at them?

Anisette- I couldn't resist! Maybe that's why it's been so hard to completely let go…because I didn't really want to.

K&K- Ya think?

Anisette- …I'm not even going to dignify that with a response.

K&K- We're almost home. Can we talk again sometime soon?

Anisette- I don't know. I'll do my best, but events around here are going to be pretty unpredictable.

All us girls- Take care! Byeeee!

I put the parchment aside and frowned. Somewhere in the house, there was a certain masked man who had narrowly escaped death the night before. I had told them that he was okay, but was he really? With memories from the previous night flashing though my mind, I pulled on my jeans as quickly as I could. Erik had put me to bed with them on, but I kicked them off right after he shut the door. Thud, thud, thud. I rolled my eyes at the sounds I made as hopped around the room, attempting to guide my uncoordinated legs through my pants. There would be no forgiving myself if I had woken Erik up…I laughed as soon as the thought crossed my mind. Erik, voluntarily go to sleep? Never. Finally, I glanced in the mirror and quickly made myself more presentable. The memories got clearer, and I nearly tore the door off of its hinges as I frantically flew from the room. Why had I gone to sleep last night? Why hadn't I insisted on staying up with him? Why-

My thoughts were interrupted as I suddenly found myself lying on the floor.

'No…' I thought, 'Floors don't inhale and exhale…'

I lifted my head and saw Erik looking at me. The hallway was lit up, so I couldn't really see his eyes, but I could tell they were resting quizzically upon me. Not that I could blame him. It isn't every day you literally bump into a woman and have her land right smack dab on top of you.

"Pardon my ignorance," he said lightly, "but is this how people say 'good morning' in the future?"

I paused for a moment, and then burst out laughing as I rolled off of him. He chuckled as he rose to his feet, and offered me his hand. Still laughing, I let him help me up.

"Where on earth were you going in such a hurry?" he asked.

The laughter died in my throat, and Erik cocked his head to the side at my suddenly solemn expression. Momentarily ignoring his question, I silently studied him. I knew it would do no good to ask him how he felt, because if he were feeling poorly, he would immediately cover it up. It was much more efficient to assess the situation first, and then ask out of common courtesy.

Once I was fairly certain that he was all right, I sighed in relief and smiled up at him.

"I wanted to check on you." I said quietly, "You gave me quite a scare last night."

A surprised expression crossed his face.

"You-You were…worried?" he asked in wonder.

I ran my hand down his arm to reassure myself that he was truly there.

"Of course." I replied, tears catching in my throat.

As my hand dropped from trailing down his arm, Erik shifted and caught my hand in his. The movement was smooth, as if it had been the most natural thing in the world. We looked at each other in silence. It had been so long since we had last spoken…there were a lot of things we needed to talk about. I didn't want the mood to turn in that direction, but it was obvious that we were both thinking about it. There would never truly be a good time to talk about what he and I had done to each other. Yes, I admitted my part in the destruction of our relationship. If I hadn't been so overprotective of Erik, he might not have been so quick to shut me out. There was nothing we could do about our past, but we had to face it in order to be able to have a successful future.

I took a breath to say something, but jumped in surprise when an alarm went off.

"What the…" I started, but Erik took off down the hallway.

I followed him as closely as I could. My senses told me that I probably shouldn't go after him when an alarm was sounding, but my curiosity got the best of me. Erik noticed me when he reached the hidden door to his home, and held up a hand.

"Stay here, Anisette." he said sternly.

I crossed my arms as he exited, and stuck my foot in the door as it started to close. If there was something to see, then I wanted to see it! I knew that Erik would probably end up killing the intruder, but I wasn't going to take any chances. If there was a struggle, then I wanted to be there to help. I was not going to lose him. Not again. He could yell at me for my disobedience later.

The scene that I stepped into was one of the most awkward ones that I could have imagined. Erik was standing by the lake with a young woman, and they were both staring at each other. I cautiously walked up to them and cleared my throat. It was like throwing a pebble into a pond. The girl paled and backed away, and Erik reached out to her with one hand. He said something in French and she started to shake, strands of the native language slipping hurriedly from her mouth in frightened whispers. I hadn't understood what either of them had said, nothing at all…save for one word. Raoul…the name forced me to see what my mind had been mercifully refusing to admit to itself. The young woman had blonde hair and blue eyes, and her voice was obviously that of a soprano. Christine Daaé. It took all my strength not to lunge at her in animalistic fury. This seemingly harmless girl had almost killed Erik, and now she had the audacity to stand before me without even meeting my gaze! My thoughts wandered to the scene in Gaston Leroux's book where the unfortunate reader was informed of Erik's death. Erik himself had sent an advertisement to the _Epoque _in order to let Christine know he was deceased. She then came back and placed the wedding band on his finger and put his body in a place he had specified prior to her departure from Paris. The reason that Little _blasted_ Lottie was present was that she thought Erik was dead, and was here to bury him.

"Hello?" I said, a bit louder than was necessary.

Both of them turned to stare at me, and I took a deep breath. This would be the true test of my former title of drama queen. If I could get through this without either of them knowing how much I wanted to use Erik's lasso on Christine right now, then I could reclaim my faded title. No matter how happy it made me to see her shaking in fear, the stress that the encounter was creating wasn't good for Erik. So, with him in mind, I put a Ronald McDonald smile on and walked toward the only two people whom I had ever come to hate in my entire life. Erik I had as much as forgiven, and certainly didn't hate anymore. Christine, on the other hand, was being killed a thousand different ways by my vivid imagination as I sauntered toward her. It didn't matter whether or not the method I thought of was actually available in the time period or not. I still used it. Chandelier. Guillotine. Sledgehammer. Chainsaw. Butcher knife. Surgeon's knives used in a Repo! The Genetic Opera fashion. Holding her head underwater and counting to a thousand. Flamethrower. Gatling gun. Electrocution. Cutting her with razorblades, putting lemon juice on the cuts, chumming shark-infested waters, and then finally throwing her into the water amidst the feeding-frenzy. The list went on and on, and helped to make my smile more genuine, however evil its origin may have been.

Forcing my brain to remember the little French that I had retained from my beginners class in middle school, I tried to make polite conversation.

"Bonjour, Madame de Chagny." I said pleasantly. "Je m'appelle Anisette Rousseau. Parlez-vous anglais?"

Christine stared at me for another moment, her mind occupied by the fact that Erik was still alive. Her face turned pink as she blushed lightly. I could see that she was searching for the words to explain something. When I looked to Erik for a translation of some sort, it didn't come as much of a surprise that he was completely focused upon Christine. When he finally spoke, it was in a voice full of surprise and confusion.

"She-she says that you mustn't call her that, as-as she's not married yet…"

I groaned inwardly. It would be much more difficult now to make this encounter end well. Erik gestured toward the open door, and we all slowly went into his house. Christine's slowness was hesitation due to fear, while mine was from frustration. The last thing I wanted was to be in the same room with Erik's little prima donna. The perfume Christine wore was just like what I knew her personality would be, sickening sweet. Erik offered her his hand to help her over the rough terrain, and she shied away from his touch. Hiding the pain in his eyes, he quickly dropped his hand and turned to lead the way.

When we were seated in his living room, Erik left and began doing something in the kitchen. I could have killed something. He should have known better than to leave me alone with her! Actually, Erik knew nothing of my hatred for Christine, but I didn't care. I was mad. At who, I wasn't completely sure. No one person could take all the blame for the current situation. Except for the seating arrangements, which consisted of Erik sitting in an armchair and Christine and I seated next to one another on the couch. Erik could take all the blame for that little gem. What did he expect us to do while he was off doing who knows what? It was at that exact moment that I found out. Christine turned toward me and smiled apologetically. Then, wonder of wonders, the little diva started speaking English. In my efforts to be polite, I had provided a doorway for communication. Stupid manners.

"Forgive me." she said softly, "I _do_ speak English, Miss Rousseau. I was only momentarily at a loss for words in your language, especially since your knowledge of my future husband was unexpected. _He_ told you of my engagement, I suppose?"

The frightened and tentative way that she avoided using a name told me whom she spoke of.

"Yes," I replied with a nod, "Erik told me."

Christine paled and inhaled sharply, looking worriedly in the direction of the kitchen. I smiled at her expression. Maybe I could get some fun out of this conversation after all!

The look in the girl's eyes when she returned her gaze to me was one filled with memories of horror. I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. The poor thing couldn't be a day over twenty-one, and probably wasn't even that old yet. There was no denying the fact that Erik had put her through a lot, and that was only based upon my limited knowledge. Maybe Erik's broken heart wasn't completely her fault after all…

"How can you say it so casually?" she whispered, "Aren't you afraid of him?"

I laughed in spite of myself.

"Afraid? I asked with a relaxed smile, "Not in the slightest. I'm well aware of what he can do, but he's not going to do it to me."

Christine's eyes widened for a moment and then went back to their normal size.

"How long…how long have you known him?" she asked hesitantly.

I had to think a moment. When had Erik first written to me?

"Since he was about twelve, I do believe."

"Please tell me that you've not been talking about _that_."

Christine and I both jumped at the sound of Erik's voice. He still knew how to make a quiet entrance, and I looked over to see him standing in the doorway.

"Do I need to sew sleigh bells onto your clothing?" I asked with a fake glare.

He chuckled and went back into the kitchen. I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"I hate it when he does that…" I muttered.

Christine gave a small smile.

"I'm sure you must have had many similar moments over the years, Miss Rousseau."

"Not really." I said with a sigh, "He and I had a bit of a falling out a few years back. And you can stop calling me 'Miss Rousseau'. Anisette will do just fine."

Even though I hated to get on friendly terms with her, Christine looked like she needed a friend at that moment. She was simply too nice to hate.

"Very well, then." she replied, "And you shall call me Christine."

I couldn't help but smile. The genuine way in which Christine presented herself was endearing, and I could easily imagine myself calling her a friend. She was the last person whom I would have expected to remind me of my friends at home, but she did. I had blamed her for almost everything unhappy about Erik's life in Paris, but now I realized it had all been a series of unfortunate events, none of which could be blamed on Christine alone.

Suddenly, a concerned look came over her face, and she dropped her voice to an even lower volume than before.

"I must ask you, Anisette…Under whose will do you remain here?"

It was at that moment that Erik stepped silently through the door, and he stood frozen in place, having heard Christine's question. My back was to him, but still I could feel his eyes resting upon me.

"It's a combination of two wills, actually." I replied in a normal tone of voice, "Erik and I both want me to be here. I'm not being forced by any means, if that's what you're thinking."

She was blushing and seemed to have shrunk down since Erik entered the room, as if she were afraid of him. I immediately chastised myself. Of course she was afraid of him! Christine seemed to realize that she looked like a frightened animal, and subtly corrected her posture as Erik handed her a cup of tea.

I studied their reactions to one another as I sipped my own tea. Erik was silent and repentant, attempting not to hide behind me like a scorned puppy. Christine was evasive yet polite, constantly avoiding his gaze by looking at me. Yes, it seemed as though they were both using me as a buffer. I wasn't exactly sure how to feel about the situation. The two of them needed to talk to one another in private, but they didn't want to do it. Everything within me screamed 'intervene!', but I just couldn't figure out the best way to go about it. Obviously I couldn't just stand up and order them to talk to one another. That would make Erik angry and Christine embarrassed, and neither of them would be able to talk while in that mood. It seemed as though I would have to tackle the situation a bit more delicately. Perhaps if I talked to them individually then they would be able to work around the awkwardness of their conflicting feelings. The only problem with doing that…was that it might work _too_ well. I wanted Erik and Christine to be on good terms with one another, because that would make Erik happy. Unfortunately, I couldn't predict exactly how good of terms they would end up being on. Christine wasn't married yet, so she was technically still available if she wanted to be. Maybe Erik had been right after all…maybe I only wanted him to be happy if it involved me. No. I couldn't let him be right, not about that! Whatever it took…and whatever happened as a result, I had to fix this if I could. For Erik's sake.

As soon as she finished her tea, Christine politely excused herself and retreated to her room. My brain grumbled in protest. Not only had she just taken my bed, but she had also created a very tense atmosphere. Erik's shoulders slumped as Christine scurried out of sight, and he sighed tiredly, putting his head in his hands. I couldn't stand seeing him so upset, not so soon after his near death experience. Suddenly, he rose and rushed from the room. Moments later I heard the thump of furniture being overturned. Why did this have to be so difficult? The two of them could get married, Raoul could get another girl, and I…well…I'd be screwed, but as long as Erik was happy…that was all that truly mattered. I went and peeked in the doorway that he had disappeared through. It was pitch-black in the room without the candle that I was holding, but I knew that Erik had been able to see just fine when he had trashed it. He stood with his hands against the wall, his head down and breathing slowly and shakily in anger. I approached him and Erik spun around, fury filling his golden eyes. My body froze in fear, bracing itself for the blow it knew would come from the raised hand he held up.

Once he recognized who he was looking at, Erik backed away, putting his hands in front of his face in self-defense and shrinking down as a small child would from an angry parent. It was shocking how quickly the transformation took place. One moment Erik's eyes had been filled with rage, and the next they were filled with fear. Why he thought I was going to harm him I wasn't sure. Perhaps he had thrown temper tantrums as a child and had been beaten by his abusive father for it. I had never been able to forget Erik's first entry in the diary, and tears filled my eyes as I the cowering man before me changed into the small child that had been nearly beaten to death that night. Something inside of Erik still remembered…and still knew how to be afraid. I walked over to him and gently lowered his hands.

"Erik, relax. It's just Anisette, dear."

He relaxed at my voice and gentle touch, returning to normal standing posture. A look of embarrassment shone in his eyes, and he cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry about that…I didn't mean to-I…er…"

I smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay. I understand."

For a moment I considered hugging him, but decided against it. A touchy-feely moment with me wasn't what I currently wanted from Erik. I dropped my hand and put a semi-stern expression on.

"We need to talk, Erik."

He seemed surprised by the sudden change of mood, but didn't resist.

"Yes?" he said hesitantly.

"I know how you feel about Christine," I said calmly, " and I also know what happened between you two."

He looked away, knowing he was in trouble. I had obviously been right in assuming that the time gap hadn't changed things much in how he viewed my age. To Erik, I was still the authority. After a little time had passed, I knew he would realize the error in that way of thinking. I didn't mind being younger than Erik, but I knew it would be wise to take advantage of his temporarily warped thinking, just this once.

"That's right." I said reproachfully, "I know what you did to her, and I must say I'm ashamed of your barbaric actions! But the time for discussing that topic has long since passed. I won't pretend it didn't happen, but harping on you about it won't change anything. What I wish to discuss with you is not the past, but the present. You would like to have a decent friendship with Christine, correct?"

Erik looked at me with hope in his eyes. It threw me slightly off track, because I could see where his thoughts were. 'If anyone can fix this, Anisette can!' was the attitude he had taken, and it scared me. I had always been there to help him, and had never failed in my attempts to make a situation better. Without even knowing it, I had always remained on the pedestal Erik had built all those years ago. Even when we stopped communicating, he knew that I would be able to help him if I so chose. I had made the mistake of thinking that my overprotective attitude had destroyed the pedestal. My inevitable fall hadn't happened yet, and I dreaded the very thought of it. What would happen if there were situation I couldn't fix? He would think I'd been lying to him all those years, and that would be the end. But the end of what? Would it simply be the end of his undying adoration and idolization of me, or the end of our relationship all together? Maybe he would hate me for my apparent failure. There was little I could do to prevent whatever fate awaited us, because Erik refused to listen. I had tried to tell him before, to warn him of the impending doom, but he would have none of it. For now, all I could do was try to live up to his standards once more.

"The first step you should take toward friendship with Christine is to get her to stop avoiding you."

He nodded in understanding, and hung on my every word as I described to him what the best path would be to take. Christine wouldn't be very happy if Erik tried to enter her bedroom, even if he knocked first and gained her supposed approval. She would let him enter merely because it was Erik's house, not because she actually wanted him to come in. Therefore, it was decided that I would soften her up a little bit first. My job would be to get her used to the idea of having a heart-to-heart talk with Erik, and then lead her back into the living room, where he would be waiting. I warned him against moving too fast, as Christine would not be very receptive of such an approach. Forgiveness was our proclaimed goal; though Erik seemed convinced that even Christine would never be able to reach such an impossible level of grace. I tried not to let my irritation show. Christine seemed to be a very nice girl, but I found it irksome that he placed her above all other living beings. I knew it was pure jealousy, but I was determined not to let anyone see it until I could smother the uncomfortable feeling out completely.

The hallway seemed too short as I walked to Christine's room, trying to think of what I would say once we were alone together. I knocked gently on her door, crossing my fingers as I did so.

"Who is it?" she called from within.

"It's Anisette." I responded, "I was hoping we might talk?"

Christine opened the door and smiled at me. I could tell that she was relieved that it had been me instead of Erik.

"Please, come in!" she said cheerfully.

Once we were seated on the bed, I took a deep breath and began to speak.

"Christine, I know you probably don't want to talk about this, but I'm afraid we must. It's obvious that you're afraid of Erik, and I can't say that I blame you. I do, however, wish to express to you the fact that he isn't necessarily someone that you _need_ to fear."

Her face had paled and she looked around nervously when I said Erik's name. She was still shaking from fear when I paused to think about what I would say next. I reached out and took her hands in mine, rubbing comforting circles in them with my thumbs.

"It's all right, my dear." I said softly, "He's not going to come in here."

She looked up at me and smiled tiredly.

"You always seem so sure of him. How do you know he won't be angry with you for talking to me?"

I tried my best not to laugh at the idea, as the distorted picture she had of Erik was truly sad.

"Christine, you must know that he isn't all anger and hate. There's so much more to him than that…"

The sentence walked the boundaries of what I did and did not want to discuss. Even though I wanted Christine to understand how amazing Erik could be, I did _not _want her knowing about my mixed feelings toward him. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours since I'd come to Paris, yet in that short period of time I had already fallen in love with him. Did I want to be in love with Erik again? It was hard to say. I knew life would be a lot easier if I didn't love him, but did I have a choice? Love was strange in that way. One could choose whether or not she would show affection toward the person they loved, but had very little say in the matter of the love itself. Past experience advised me to bury my feelings deep inside me, to not even admit to myself that I loved him. After a bit of thought, I realized that I didn't really love Erik in the romantic sense anymore. I loved the happiness that my presence had apparently brought him, and loved that our friendship hadn't truly died. If I loved Erik, it was as a dear friend whom I didn't want to lose ever again. The thought was comforting, and I returned my attention to my newest friend.

She was still looking around, but this time it seemed to be in order to avoid my gaze. I stared at her until she finally looked at me, waiting for a response.

"I know that there's more to him…" Christine said quietly, "but please try to understand. I don't love him. It's what he wants and I can't give it to him."

My stomach stopped clenching, and I felt my irritation with Christine fade. She truly was just here to bury Erik, and still expected nothing other than to return to the surface. I smiled at her gently in understanding, a gesture I would never have thought myself capable of.

"Yes, I know you can't love him. After all you've been through, my dear, I wouldn't expect you to. You love Raoul, and that's perfectly acceptable. No, I don't ask you to _love_ Erik, but rather just to try and _understand_ him."

She looked at me with a strange expression on her face.

"I do understand…to a certain point." she said slowly, "But I don't think that's what you truly want me to do. You want…forgiveness…don't you, Anisette?"

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Christine truly was brighter than I gave her credit for. I looked around in a fashion similar to what she had done earlier, and lowered my voice.

"Yes, Christine, I want you to forgive him. If you can. It would mean so much to Erik. I'm not asking that you throw yourself on your knees before him, or even that you be friends, though that would be amazing if you could. All I ask is that you just act a bit more…normal when around him. Don't punish him so. Please?"

I felt like I was almost on _my_ knees before _her_. Begging wasn't something that I enjoyed, but I would do whatever it took in order to make Erik happy. I also realized that this sort of servant-like attitude was part of what had gotten me hurt in the first place. In the future I would have to stop throwing myself out just for Erik's sake. I swore to myself that this would be the last time I crawled to or for him. Erik could do his own dirty work, and I was tired of presenting myself as the one of lower status or importance.

"I suppose…perhaps…I might be able to forgive him. To act normal around him…I don't think that feat is even possible, but I shall try."

Christine's response gave me hope. Maybe they could fix things between themselves to the point that they _would_ become friends. I had told Christine I wouldn't ask that of her, and I would keep my word. It didn't hurt to hope…just a little. Her forgiveness alone would help Erik out tremendously, even though I had given him hope for a friendship I'd truly thought was impossible. He had placed so much of his own hopes in her; I just couldn't let them die. I had seen his hopes once…maybe she could fulfill whatever part of his dreams I had somehow failed to satisfy. As we walked out of her room together and returned to the living room, the being inside of me let out a low growl. The closer sweet little Christine got to Erik, the more I struggled to restrain it…the growing green monster…of envy.


	10. Visit to the Vicomte

Awkward. That's about the only way I can describe how it felt to enter the room at the same time as Christine. The reason for that being that Erik immediately stood and waited for her to be seated again, never once taking his eyes off of her. It was as if I didn't even exist. I knew that this was probably a good thing, as Christine seemed to be strangely taken with him as well. How could it be that one moment she was frozen in fear of him, and the next she couldn't look away? It hadn't been very long ago that Erik and I had shared several tender moments together. Where had they gone? No matter. I knew Christine wouldn't stay forever, and things would go back to normal as soon as she left to marry her fiancé. My muscles stopped tensing at that realization, so I smiled and took a step backward.

"Well, I think I'll just be leaving you two alone now." I said cheerfully.

The halls were black as I walked aimlessly toward the back of Erik's house. Suddenly something cold grabbed my hand, and I gave out a small shriek before noticing Erik's golden eyes shining in the darkness.

"You really shouldn't sneak up on people like that." I said with an exasperated sigh.

He held me in place by my shoulders with a desperate look in his eyes.

"Getting cold feet are we?" I questioned with a smirk.

His hands trembled slightly as he loosened his grip upon me, and I changed my look to one of concern.

"Are you all right?"

Erik let go and turned his back to me.

"Erik shouldn't stop you from leaving." he said quietly, "You aren't his prisoner…"

I smacked the palm of my hand against my forehead and hurriedly turned him to face me. His eyes filled with hesitant hope, and I gently removed his mask to stroke his cheek with my hand.

"I'm not leaving the century, dear," I said softly, "just the room."

He sighed in relief. Obviously my presence meant more to him than I thought.

"Erik," I said in a bit more serious of a tone, "I'll stay as long as you want me here. That's a promise."

I rocked forward a little onto the balls of my feet to kiss him on the lips, but changed course at the last moment and gave him a small kiss on the cheek before spinning around and scurrying into a side room. What had made me so bold as to almost kiss him like that? The question buzzed through my mind for a moment before I pushed it aside. I hadn't gone through with it, and that was the important thing. It seemed as though I would have to carefully monitor my feelings for him until Christine left. After all, this time was supposed to be about the two of them healing their relationship, not me throwing myself upon him like a love struck idiot. Why did this always happen? Every time Erik came to me with that look, I got all mushy inside. I hated the lack of control I seemed to have over my emotions when around him. It was exactly that sort of thing that had made me into the puppet I had been before. If Erik thought he was going to control me this time around, he had another thing coming. Not that I truly thought he would, but I was still hurting from last time. We hadn't discussed it yet, and Christine's presence was yet another reason to put the painful conversation on hold. Neither one of us realized at that point what the consequences would be of that unofficial decision, but it would cost us both dearly.

So they talked. And talked. And then talked some more. Having not gotten much sleep the night before, I fell asleep listening to their soft voices, and a few hours later I woke up to them as well. Christine finally realized how much time had passed, and I thought for sure she would say goodbye and that would be the last we would see of her for a while. I was wrong. She decided instead to write a letter to Raoul, telling him she was in good health but had chosen to stay a while longer. Erik, of course, was overjoyed at this, and immediately took what he thought to be the next reasonable step. I was curled up in a chair reading a book when he knocked on the door, and looked up to see him nearly skipping through the doorway. It was actually fairly comical, until I found out why he had come to me.

"Anisette, I have a small favor to ask of you, my dear."

"Yes?" I replied cautiously.

"Christine is writing a letter to the Vicomte. I would deeply appreciate it if you would go above and deliver it to him."

There was nothing I could say except yes. Erik going was out of the question, and Christine going would defeat the purpose. I sighed in frustration and nodded to him. There would be no way to tell how long Christine would stay now. But, I obediently rose from my seat and picked out a less futuristic outfit to wear. It wasn't anything fancy, just a step or two up from jeans and a t-shirt. The last thing I wanted was to draw attention to myself in a strange place. Erik gave me written instructions on how to safely navigate through the cellars and to the Vicomte's home. I didn't ask how he knew where Raoul lived, because I just didn't want to know. Erik had probably spied on him more than once, but it was better to just not ask.

I barely received a goodbye as I went out the door, Erik being too concentrated on memorizing every curve of Christine's face…again. Rolling my eyes, I moved on, wanting to get the journey over with as soon as possible. As always, Erik was very clear in his instructions. He guided me safely over and around every invisible trap, making sure that I knew which tunnels to take and which staircases to avoid. I found myself wishing he were there beside me, holding out his hand to help me over the terrain as he had to Christine. He wouldn't find rejection like he did with her, that's for sure. Of course, thanks to me, he was no longer experiencing that rejection. I kicked a random rock over the side of a staircase. Sometimes I really hated myself. It was a bit ironic, really. Erik wanted someone to love him, yet it was always my love for him that prevented me from being with him. Unfair as it was, I couldn't say I was surprised. Had I ever truly believed that the vision I saw in the mirror would come true? No. I had hoped beyond all hope that it would, but that was the extent of it. Perhaps if I'd had a bit more faith…no, I couldn't think that way or I would drive myself insane. The time for 'what if's' was past. Now was the time for thought, strategy, and action. All of which could come after I delivered Christine's note to the Vicomte, which had the potential to be a very interesting event. I had always been curious about the man who had competed with Erik for Christine. What was the attraction? Was he simply the guy who _didn't_ kidnap Christine and terrorize her? It was possible.

It was obvious that Erik hadn't been thinking clearly when he wrote down the directions I was following. I got out of the opera house easily enough, but when it came to wandering the streets, I soon discovered that I was being taken down a pathway filled with strange shadows and whispers of dark secrets. This was the path that Erik would have taken, simply because it was off the busy roads away from prying eyes. He would have had no trouble through the alleyways undisturbed. I, on the other hand, was too harmless to discourage any foul play that my being a woman might instigate. Going through town wasn't an option, because I had no clue as to how to reach my destination that way and too little skill in the French language to inquire about it. So I stood as erect as possible, hardened my facial expression to that of a slight scowl, and marched confidently along my way. Inside, my heart was pounding and adrenaline rushed through my body. This was the type of route that my mother had always warned me about, but she wasn't there to lecture me this time. I muttered an apology as I silenced her voice and continued on my way. A few people tried to make an advance, but each of them backed away after being frozen by my glare. The journey seemed to take forever, but I did eventually arrive.

I walked up to the door and hesitantly knocked on it. The Vicomte lived in a place that was more like a mansion than a house, which is what I should have expected. When the door opened, it only opened part way. A servant stood staring at me in disdain. He spouted something in French, and I just stared at him dumbly. More French followed before I hesitantly tried to explain myself in English. When I gestured to the envelope in my hand, he tried to take it from me. I would have gladly released the note and walked away from the frustration, but something made me pull my hand back. If Raoul read the note and assumed Christine was trying to say that she was in trouble, he would come running to the rescue. This would doubtless prove to be a disaster for all parties involved, including me. No, I knew that it would be better if I stayed to assure him of her safety and to thwart any rescue attempts he might plan. It somehow seemed to be my duty, though I couldn't for the life of me figure out why. Erik was more than capable of taking care of himself, and a visit from Raoul might prevent any more long-term ones by Christine. But, I chose instead to do what would make Erik happy. It was really starting to get on my nerves, though I could have chosen the opposite path easily enough.

All of this was going through my head at a high rate of speed, but it was hard to focus with the servant chattering on in French. I held up both of my hands for him to stop and gestured from the letter and myself to the name daintily written on the front of it. The man seemed to understand, but hesitated before leading me into the house. Not that I blamed him. The Vicomte probably didn't have many visitors of such low status, which made any company that fit the slim category suspicious and worthy of scrutiny. This fact was pounded into my head with every strange glance I received from the various staff as I walked hurriedly behind the servant. It was an unpleasant experience that was much too reminiscent of my days at high school.

The man held up a hand for me to wait, then quickly went upstairs to fetch his master. A few other servants immediately began busying themselves nearby, sneaking suspicious glances in my direction. It was obvious that they were around to make sure I didn't steal anything. As if I would do such a thing! I couldn't speak enough French to sell a stolen item anyway, and nothing I saw as I looked around was anywhere near my taste. Not that the items were ugly, mind you, they were just a bit too gaudy. A few pieces caught my eye in the quick sweep I did from where I was standing, but I didn't have time to study anything thoroughly in the short time it took for the Vicomte to appear at the top of the staircase. To my pointless frustration, I found myself incapable of even disliking him. I had grown to like Christine in the few moments that I had spoken with her, so liking her lover wasn't all that difficult either. Before he spoke a single word I could tell that he did indeed love Christine. Worry was written all over his face as he came down the stairs at a fast pace. I smiled a little at the thought that he was probably resisting taking the stairs two at a time, attempting to remain calm. After all, a proper gentleman like the Vicomte would be expected to retain cool composure under all circumstances. In other words, be an emotionless robot. I could tell that this was definitely not natural for him.

My tiny smile disappeared completely as I heard a raised voice coming in my direction. Right as he reached the bottom of the stairs, someone came storming into the room shouting an angry stream of French and pointing the servant who had let me in.

"So much for cool composure…" I muttered under my breath.

Raoul looked at the man and, in a normal tone of voice, said something that sounded as if he were defending the servant. The angry man's tone changed to a pleading one, and the other servants chimed in with nods and more pleading. Suddenly, I felt Christine's note being pulled from my hand. A servant of higher status than the others (I could tell by the way he was dressed) had grabbed it and was about to walk away when I kicked him in the shin as hard as I could. He exclaimed in pain and I jerked the letter out of his hand.

"That is not your property, thank you very much." I said in an annoyed tone.

I received a scowl in response, and was about to be further harassed when I found myself being pulled by the arm into a different room. The Vicomte closed and locked the door behind us, then sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes with one hand. This was the look of a man who was utterly exhausted.

I cocked my head slightly to the side and looked at him for a minute. Had Erik truly put them through so much turmoil? Of course he had. I knew for a fact that Erik had been completely insane in his treatment of Christine and her fiancé, but I had always ultimately sided with him. Now, seeing how completely desperate Raoul was to simply get away from it all, I felt ashamed for both Erik and myself. It didn't help that the servants (and most likely his peers) wanted Raoul to terminate his relationship with Christine due to her strange reputation and status. No one deserved this.

"I'm sorry." I said softly.

He looked at me, and an expression of absolute terror came over his face. I realized immediately what he was thinking and wanted to kick myself for it.

"No, no! You misunderstand me. Christine is perfectly fine, I promise you. I merely wanted to personally apologize for everything that you two have been through. Believe me when I say that I understand what it feels like to be separated from the one you love."

It all came out before I could stop myself, and I was shocked at how honest I had just been with a man I had never met. Somehow it seemed to have been the best thing I could have said, because after staring at me for a moment, the Vicomte smiled. It was a handsome smile, and it made him look younger than before. He gestured to a seat and then took the one directly across from it once I was sitting comfortably.

The smile that had been on his face before turned into a look of curiosity, and I could only guess as to what he was thinking at that moment.

"Since you have a letter from Christine, may I presume that you know her?" he said quietly.

"Yes, I know her, though we haven't been acquainted for very long. I know her more from what I have been told about her. I've been told a few things about you too."

What else was I supposed to say? I couldn't very well go on a rant about what I'd read about he and Christine, especially since I had no idea whether or not those things were true. The Vicomte's eyebrows rose in surprise nonetheless.

"Might I ask the source of your information?" he said with a strange look in his eyes.

My back straightened and I put a serious look on my face.

"No sir, you may not, though I will say that it is not the source you are so bold as to suspect."

He seemed a bit embarrassed after that, probably realizing that I was only a woman and would not likely be there to carry out his enemy's dirty work. If only he knew…

"I apologize. Times have been quite stressful as of late, and I find it hard to trust anyone. You said that Christine is well. If this is true, then why has she not returned home after so many hours? The task she left to perform should not have taken that long to complete."

The way that the Vicomte said 'task' left a bitter taste in my mouth, and I was tempted to get up and leave without giving him the note. Maybe Erik had anticipated that my fears would be realized. Perhaps it was his plan all along for Raoul to dash to an unnecessary rescue, so that the two could have another chance to reduce the competition. I hoped I was wrong.

"I'm afraid that I'm in no position to answer your question, sir. I will, however, give you this letter, so that your fiancée may explain the situation herself."

He quickly took the note from my outstretched hand and tore off the seal. His eyes flew across the page, and it was interesting to watch his face as he read different parts of the letter. At one point he stood up in alarm, and I clutched my knees with my hands to keep from tackling him. He read the letter again and then started toward the door with a determined look on his face. I stood in front of him with my arms stretched out to the sides.

"I don't think she said 'come save me'." I said without the slightest look of humor on my face, "Am I wrong?"

Raoul pressed his lips together tightly and bunched up his fists, crushing the note in the process.

"She said that the monster is alive." he said in a dangerous tone, "That's enough for me."

I took the force that I wanted to put into smacking him for the monster comment and pushed him back into his chair.

"Mmmkay. Now you and I are gonna have a little chat. Why? Because there are a few things that you need to understand."

The look of shock on his face was priceless, and I knew that Erik would be having the time of his life if he could see me pinning the Vicomte to the chair.

"You going down there to 'rescue' Christine would not accomplish anything. Well, unless you count making Erik angry and you most likely dying in one of his traps. I assume that you would like to avoid that scenario. On the other hand, if you stay here, Christine will be able to have her visit in peace, making Erik happy, and you won't die. Guess which one you're gonna do?"

I shoved off of his shoulders and backed off a little, waiting for a response.

"Why is it exactly that you care about any of this?" he said slowly, "From what you've said, you barely know Christine, you and I also barely know one another…"

I didn't like where this was going. Not at all.

"Are you being forced to do this? Is _he_ making you do all of his dirty work in exchange for your freedom? Has he even offered you freedom? I can help you. All you have to do is lead me to him and-" WHACK!

Raoul had said the entire thing in less than five seconds. This did not, however, prevent me from smacking him before he mentioned killing Erik, which I knew he would if he got the chance.

"That's quite enough from you, sir. I'll thank you to not talk about my friend that way to me or anyone else."

He looked at me confusedly.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Mademoiselle. The person I wish to kill is no one's friend, but rather a murderer who should be executed before he causes any further harm."

I shook my head. People really could be quite dense at times. Just because a person is hated by the majority doesn't mean that he deserves it or that the feeling is universal.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Monsieur Vicomte, as it is simply not true. Yes, he has killed many people, but that does not mean that he deserves to be killed himself. I would think that before you judge someone so seriously, you should at least know him first. You may think that you know Erik, but I assure you that you do not. It is most unfortunate that you and your fiancée have been put in such circumstances that prevent you from doing so, but I also acknowledge that the blame for this rests greatly, though not completely, with him."

Raoul stared at me for a moment before my words truly seemed to sink through the layer of confusion that surrounded his brain.

"Do you mean to say that-"

"That I'm not an innocent victim?" I interrupted, "Yes. That is exactly what I mean. I've known Erik for years and will always act in his best interest. I have great influence with him, so it would be in _your_ best interest not to get on my nerves. Just because I care about his future does not mean that I am going to let Erik do whatever he pleases to you and Christine. Do you understand, Monsieur Vicomte?"

He suddenly looked at me as though a third eye had begun to sprout in the middle of my forehead.

"Who _are_ you?"

I laughed in spite of myself.

"My name is Anisette Rousseau. I'm a friend of Erik's, but I'd like to be your friend too. When I first heard about what happened between you three, I was furious, but now I understand that it was just a series of unfortunate events. You have every right to be in love with Christine and to marry her as you plan to. I'm just trying to relieve some tension and clean up a little of the mess."

I stuck out my hand as a gesture of goodwill, but was surprised when Raoul stood and shook it. His hand felt a little weird at first, and I realized that it was because they were a bit sweaty. He didn't seem nervous, so I figured that it was just from his concern over Christine.

"I am indeed pleased to meet you, Miss Rousseau. Your presence will hopefully distract his attention from Christine for at least a short while."

He said the last part slowly, as if he were planning how to whisk Christine away the moment she returned. I had no doubt that this was the case.

Once I had the Vicomte's word that he would stay put until Christine came to him, I began my journey back to the cellar. Part of me wanted to stay and chat for a while, just to learn a little bit more about Raoul, but it was getting dark again. Traveling through a strange city at night would be more than foolish. Raoul had given me directions on how to get to the opera house by a safer route, so the trip was not nearly as tense had been before. Unfortunately, the feeling of accomplishment that I'd left the mansion with wasn't meant to last very long. Annoyance and slight panic took over when I entered the cellars and took Erik's directions out of my pocket. I had folded the piece of paper moments after it had been handed to me, because I was able to quickly memorize the map pattern. This made it easier to walk around without being stared at, and it was much safer to appear as if I knew where I was going. Unfortunately, I had since forgotten that pattern, so I needed to study the map one last time. Even more unfortunate was the fact that the ink had severely smeared in several places, making it hard to read. Apparently I had closed the page before the ink had dried completely.

"Great. Just great." I said with a frustrated sigh.

There were important things to remember about Erik's time, but it never would have occurred to me to think about the stupid ink!

Grumbling to myself about how stupid I had been, I did my best to determine which way I should go. Most of the map was fairly clear, but I paused and stared when I came to an area that was almost completely smudged out. Squinting at the page and peering through the dark tunnels, I finally was able to determine which way I should go. With a look of confidence, I stepped into the leftmost tunnel. When nothing happened I took another step. The map said that there were no traps for a few more feet, so I put another foot down. Erik had drawn marks where a few triggers to the traps were, and I could see that I was coming up on a trigger to a pit. The idea was that a person would step on the trigger, feel it sink under his foot, and then backpedal in panic. Erik did not write all if this on the map, merely the location of the trigger. The genius of that particular trap would probably never have been revealed to me had I, with my insanely smudged map, failed to misjudge how far I had come in the tunnel. I knew as soon as I had backpedaled that I was doomed. Erik wouldn't give his victims warning unless it served his own purposes. And so, with a very chorus girl worthy scream, I fell into the pit.

I opened my eyes a moment later and looked around. I was in a fairly shallow hole that contained no spikes or bloodthirsty creatures. There was a body of water straight ahead, but it looked relatively harmless as well. Knowing that I should get out of there before anything happened, I put my hands on the rim of the pit and started to pull myself up. As soon as I touched the rim, the opening slammed closed, nearly taking my hands off. A whimper escaped my lips as I was left in complete darkness. Walking to the edge of the water, I looked out. Under no circumstances was I going to even touch it. That seemed to be okay though, because there was a rim of land around it that allowed access to the tunnel ahead.

"How convenient." I said flatly, "Way _too_ convenient, thank you very much."

I was about to turn around and go sit at the entrance to the trap to think when I heard a scream. It was a man's scream, but I knew right off that it wasn't Erik. For one, he didn't scream. Ever. Secondly, even if he did, Erik would have no reason to scream in his own trap, because he would know how to get out. Third, it wasn't his voice I heard pleading for help. You would think that the obvious lack of Erik being in trouble would have just caused me to walk away. I didn't do this, however, because I decided to be a heroic idiot. Well, that and I knew there was a chance that the person in trouble wanted to be saved from whatever torture Erik had in mind. If Erik were there, he could get me out.

"Erik?" I called as I quickly made my way around the water.

Not a single voice answered me, not even that of the person I'd heard earlier. The lack of reply should have been even more of a warning, but you have to remember that I was being stupid at the time…very stupid.

As I rounded the corner, I heard a soft groan and sped up slightly. The pond extended back into the tunnel and then ended to form a shallow pool that was about ten feet in each direction and approximately three feet deep all the way across. A figure was lying next to the pool, looking as if it had been thrown there by something. When I approached, the person raised his head.

"Raoul?" I exclaimed confusedly, "How on earth…"

The sentence was supposed to be 'how on earth did you get down here before me?', but I cut it off halfway when I saw the dim look in his eyes. Whatever had happened to him, the man was half dead.

"Help…" he whispered, and then passed out.

I hesitated only for a moment before rushing to his side. Flipping him over onto his back, I quickly went into panic mode at the cold touch of his skin. There was no red flush to his cheeks, no twitching of his hand…and no rise and fall of his chest.

"No!" I whispered in horror, "You're not supposed to die! You have to take Christine away…live the rest of your lives happily together!"

I leaned over his still form and took a deep breath, preparing to resuscitate him.

Suddenly, he grabbed me roughly by the arms and shoved my head underwater. Apparently he wasn't so dead after all, but I couldn't understand why he was trying to drown me! I struggled against him and managed to push myself out of the water.

"Raoul, stop, it's Anisette!" I cried desperately.

He grunted and shoved me back under. As my lungs burned for air, I struggled against the urge to breathe, knowing I would win the fight if only I could gain control of my kicking legs long enough to wrap them around his neck…push him away, force him to let go…but it was no use. My body started to flail uselessly as the lack of oxygen affected my brain. My mouth went open and sucked in the surrounding water, causing me to choke. Raoul's grip on my shoulders was incredibly strong, unlike any I'd felt before. I could see his face, those green eyes glaring at me, willing me to die…

'Green? No, Raoul blue… _He's_ green!'

To a brain being supplied with oxygen, the realization that Raoul had blue eyes instead of this unfamiliar green would have produced more coherent thoughts, but the epiphany occurred nonetheless. As I passed into fatal unconsciousness, my last thought went upward to the green eyes staring down at me through the wet death…

'_Who are you?_'


	11. The Faces of Death

I had never personally met anyone who'd been through an out of body experience. Looking down on my unmoving form should have been terrifying, but for some reason it was simply intriguing. I appeared younger in death, which made sense because I no longer had anything to worry about. My troubles were over…except for the fact that I was just kind of…floating there.

'Why no heavenly gates?' I thought curiously.

Mildly annoyed, I floated over to my body for closer inspection. I certainly looked dead. My chest was as still as the rest of my body, and my skin had turned even more pale than usual. If there were anything keeping me tied to my body, it was not obvious.

Voices echoed and came closer, drawing my attention toward the direction I had previously come from. Not-Raoul walked in followed by a grumbling Erik. Though I was close enough that, had I still been flesh and blood, I could have reached out and touched them, the men's voices were muffled. Assuming that this was a side effect of being stuck between death and life, I strained to hear.

"This had better be good." Erik said menacingly.

"I wouldn't have disturbed you," the Raoul person said, "except that this particular victim is a bit different than the usual scum that come snooping around."

Erik sighed, and I could easily imagine him giving the stranger an exasperated eye roll.

"And what, may I ask, was so special about this one?"

A look of annoyance briefly crossed the person's face before he continued.

"Well, for starters, she just absolutely refused to die. Even after I was sure the killing had been successful, the body kept twitching for several minutes, as if it didn't want to release the soul it held…"

Clenching his fists and turning partially away from the person, Erik visibly restrained himself from shouting his reply.

"I hired you to do one thing and one thing only: kill anyone who enters your domicile. If I wanted to spend time looking the victims over, I would have simply done the job myself. Granted, I've gotten fairly good at that particular practice, but even the most moronic of people would be able to perform the task that you are obviously incapable of-"

He paused in mid-rant, all emotion abruptly fleeing from his demeanor.

"Did you say…_she_?"

The stranger raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Yes. This time, the victim was a woman. Yet another oddity that caused me to-"

"Out of my way." Erik interrupted, as he quickly strode past his employee and in the direction of the place my limp body had been placed.

"Noooooow you get concerned!" I said as I threw up my invisible arms in exasperation.

At a second glance, however, he didn't really seem to be concerned after all. In fact, when he saw my body, he just stood there staring at it. No emotion. Whatsoever. I stood there in confusion, wondering why he didn't care.

"I understand." he said, "You are upset that I did not escort you to the surface. It will not happen again, you have my word. I would appreciate it, however, if you did not try to communicate these feeling in such a vulgar manner, especially when it distracts my employees from their work."

He paused, as if waiting for something. I suddenly realized that he thought I was faking, at which point I burst into laughter.

"You, Erik, are in a classic case of denial. I'm not sure why this seems funny at the moment. Perhaps it has something to do with my new carefree attitude. Yes, it seems as though I can't bring myself to have negative feelings about anything. Maybe because I'm dead!"

I knew it was strange to be laughing at the situation. A normal person would be freaking out about their death, but it did indeed seem as though I was incapable of doing so.

Since Erik didn't hear my strange short rant, he knelt down beside my body to investigate my lack of response. He inhaled deeply and checked my pulse. After a moment, he jerked his hand away as if he'd been stung.

"No!" he cried, and awkwardly brought my body into an upright position.

I watched with vague interest as he started pounding on my back, presumably to force the water from my lungs. I wasn't sure whether or not it would work, and I didn't really seem to care either. I was perfectly content to stay exactly where I was…wherever that might have been. I once again had the feeling that something was desperately wrong, but I still could not bring myself to care.

He hit my back again, and everything suddenly ceased to be peachy. Feelings of horror at being dead and fear of never taking another breath hit me the same time as severe nausea and suffocation. I was then slammed back into my body, where I immediately started to panic. I couldn't move or breathe. All my hopes were on Erik's steadily pounding hand. Without it, I knew that I would simply cease to be.

"_Breathe_, Anisette!"

I wanted to obey Erik's desperate plea, but my lungs refused to comply. They were clamped tight shut and wouldn't budge. I faintly felt Erik's hand move down a few inches and prepare for another hit, but I knew it was too late. My senses were dulling and within moments I was moving toward a warm bright light. The pain of death was gone, and I could be at peace. I was almost completely within the light when I heard a faint whisper.

"Please. Not like this. Not my Anisette…"

His. Erik had called me his. He didn't know that anyone had heard him, of course, but that didn't matter. I looked forward into the warmth and then back into the cold darkness. The darkness frightened me, but I knew it was where I had to go. Erik was there, waiting. My Erik. He had claimed me at last, and I would never let anyone take him from me. We belonged with one another. In life, I had been uncertain of whether or no this could ever come to be, but in the light it was wonderfully clear that it always _had_ been. It was one of those things that no one messed with, because it was meant to be. This knowledge allowed me to face the cold and plunge back into it.

The water poured out of my lungs as Erik gave me one last desperate thwack on the back. I coughed and choked as the liquid came up, wanting nothing more than to just breathe. After an agonizing moment, my wish came true. Lungs burning, I inhaled sweet oxygen for a few moments, and then fell back in exhaustion. Erik caught me and pulled me into his arms in one smooth movement. I weakly wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my head on his shoulder as he carried me out of the trap. The cold throughout my body from being on the edge of death made me shiver. I was barely conscious, but being in his arms warmed me in ways a blanket never could. It probably wasn't a good idea, but I started to drift off. I knew that I wouldn't die again, but the darkness of my eyelids sent me into panic mode every time I blinked. None of the methods I tried seemed to wake me up. I needed something to shock me awake, but I doubted anything could be very shocking after death. Erik put me down and studied me carefully, trying to get me to stay awake.

Green-eyed Raoul came out of the shadows with a confused look on his face.

"Would someone please explain to me what-"

He was cut off as Erik swiftly turned and struck him square in the face with his fist. This unexpected act jerked me completely awake. Erik then pulled his dazed employee off of the ground by the collar and pulled back to hit him once more. Before he could do so, I called out an order of ceasefire.

"Erik, stop!"

He turned his head toward me. I could feel his anger…and it frightened me. Never before had I witnessed Erik's fury in such intensity. Christine's attitude toward him suddenly made a lot more sense. I could envision her taking off his mask in curiosity, and then getting the shock of both his appearance and anger issues in one terrible moment. No wonder she was so afraid.

I swallowed my own fear and stared him down. After a moment, he turned toward the man he still had by the collar and brought him close.

"If you _ever_ so much as _touch_ her again, I swear that I will torture you until you beg for death, but even then I will not give it to you. Your every waking hour will be hell on earth. Now GO!"

With that, Erik shoved his victim in the direction of the cave. He then roughly grabbed me by the arm and pulled me toward the exit. I quickly gathered that there would be no more gentle carrying, and Erik stormed onward, basically dragging me back to his home. Part of me wanted to tell him to slow down, but I knew I needed to be quiet and let him fume. If Erik were able to vent a little of his anger on the way back, the inevitable explosion wouldn't be as bad. At least, that was my plan. Having died not too long ago, I was still utterly exhausted.

"Erik, I can't do this. You're going to have to slow down." I said as I tried to catch my breath.

He turned around faster than I could blink and just looked at me.

"I'm sorry, but your death glare won't change the fact that I nearly _died_ a few minutes ago. There are parts of my body I can't even completely feel yet!"

As if to punctuate my remark, my legs started to wiggle. I gave a small shriek of terror as I started to fall forward. Erik caught me once again and began to carry me down the stairs, all without saying a single word.

When we got back to his home, Christine poked her head around the corner in curiosity. She took one look at my appearance and rushed to my side. The warmth that Erik had denied me came from a most unexpected place, and I basically collapsed into her arms when she wrapped them around me. Erik watched us as we walked into her room together and shut the door. The moment it had closed, I felt as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It was sometimes hard to tell how intense Erik was looking at me…until he wasn't doing it anymore. Christine seemed to understand this, and looked at me in concern when I exhaustedly flopped down in a chair.

"What happened?" she asked in a quiet, solemn tone.

"Hmm?" I said tiredly, and then realized what she meant, "Oh, nothing happened dearie. Someone just killed me, that's all."

I thought my nonchalance slightly humorous, but it was obvious that Christine was mortified.

"He tried to kill you?" she exclaimed, "Why? What happened? How did you change his mind? What-"

As soon as I realized where her mind had gone, the exhaustion wore off.

"No!" I hurriedly protested, "I didn't say _he_ tried to kill me, I said _someone_ did! I don't know who it was, though he held a frightening similarity to your fiancé."

Her face went pale.

"Raoul would never…even if he thought he was helping me, he wouldn't…"

She seemed at a loss for words, and I couldn't blame her. Seeing the imposter had left me confused as well.

"I know it wasn't Raoul," I said reassuringly, "but the man who attacked me looked just like him. Except for the eyes, that is. The eyes were definitely different…"

Those haunting eyes. I couldn't get them out of my mind. They had were foreign at the time, but seemed somehow familiar as time went on. Surely I hadn't ever seen this person before. I would have remembered a Raoul look-alike. But the eyes were definitely reminiscent of…of what? I thought about it for a minute, but gave up with a tired sigh.

"Erik said that the man was one of his employees, but other than that I have no idea who he is."

Christine lowered her head.

"I had no idea he even had employees. I've never seen anyone else when I've been down here before, though I've certainly heard some things."

I wouldn't say what I was thinking. Christine had been too kind for me to bring up the fact that she had never actually been allowed to explore. By removing Erik's mask, she had also destroyed any chance she might have had at freedom. I also thought that perhaps I might have been traveling down the same path. If Erik couldn't even trust me to stay alive, why on earth would he ever let me roam around on my own? I only hoped that I would not become imprisoned, as Christine one had been. That would not sit well with me at all.

Quickly fleeing from the awkward topic of Raoul's doppelganger, Christine and I began to talk of other things. I told her a little bit more about my relationship with Erik, a topic she seemed most interested in. It never occurred to anyone that Erik could actually have a friend. The thought of someone willingly spending time with Erik seemed impossible to those who knew him. I understood why everyone (everyone being Christine and Raoul) thought this, but that didn't mean it was accurate. Erik's actions were desperately misinterpreted, though I never hesitated to admit that this was due to some of his own stupidity as well. It was a very interesting conversation, but I ended up drifting off to sleep anyway.

When I woke up, I was in bed and there was no light coming from inside the room. With a start, I realized that this last statement was incorrect. Faint light shone from underneath the door, creating two golden spheres in the middle of the darkness.

"Hi." I said softly as I sat up.

He didn't answer, so I reached over and lit the candle sitting on the nightstand. Erik was sitting in the chair across the room, staring at me steadily. His breathing was deep and even, so I surmised that he had calmed down since I had last seen him. He had gone from fury to some new emotion I couldn't identify. This bothered me a little, so I got out of bed and walked over to him. I tilted my head and looked at him repentantly.

"I didn't mean to scare you. The ink on the directions smudged because I closed it too soon. I got lost.."

He didn't even seem to be looking at me anymore, but rather simply staring into empty space. I did not like this.

"Erik?" I questioned worriedly.

When there was still no reply, I sat on the floor and put my head on his lap sadly. There are some things that just can't be said. I thought about how different things had been since our big fight. There had been a brief moment when things had been good again…and then it vanished. If we couldn't get past it, our future together would be as black as the pages in the diary.

After a moment, Erik sighed and rested a hand on my head. I wanted desperately for him to pet me a little, but I knew it wouldn't happen anytime soon. Erik had no idea of my feelings for him and wasn't likely to express feelings of his own, even if he had any, which I doubted. So I remained content with his touch, closing my eyes and trying not to wish for more.

"Don't close your eyes." Erik said softly.

I opened them and looked up at him in curiosity. His voice wasn't smooth and strong like it normally was, but slightly raspy and tired sounding.

"I need to see the life in your eyes." He explained solemnly, "I can't the picture out of my head…"

As he turned his head away, I reached up toward him. He saw the movement and gently caught hold of my hands before they reached his mask.

"I…don't know if that would be wise. You should not have to see the face of death so soon after drowning."

Rolling my eyes at his usual stubbornness, I slipped from his grasp and removed the mask.

"How many times are we going to go through this?" I asked in a slightly teasing tone.

He just looked at me sadly.

"As many times as it takes for reality to appear."

"Erik, dearest," I said gently, "Your reality never _will_ appear. I promise you that."

He closed his eyes, fighting disbelief, and I got up onto my knees and took his face in my hands.

"Hey." I whispered softly as I leaned my forehead against his, "Have I ever broken any of the promises I've made to you?"

Erik's body twitched in recognition of the unintended meaning of that sentence. I had never broken any of my promises to him, but he had broken the most important promise of all. I knew I should pursue the subject, but it didn't seem like the right time. The only thing I wanted was for Erik to be happy again.

"Don't think about that." I said solemnly, "Just answer the question I asked."

He looked at me for a moment, gently stroking my cheek with the back of his hand.

"No…you never have." he said with a smile, "And something tells me that you never will."

I took advantage of the tender moment, casually taking his hand and holding it to my cheek. Then it happened. He looked at me, and I could have sworn I saw something there. Longing, perhaps? Whatever it was, it was what I had been waiting for. I let a little of the longing in my own heart seep through the barrier behind my eyes. For a moment we were connected in a way that felt…right. I took a breath to say some of what I'd been waiting so long to say, but was interrupted by a noise at the door. A soon as Christine appeared in the doorway, Erik and I dropped our hands and but the barriers back up around our hearts. I realized later on that I should never have let go so easily. I should have held on tightly to his hand, showing him what it was that I wanted, leaving no doubt. Oh for opportunities lost! With the opportunity went the mood, and Erik and I stood to greet Christine.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt." she said hurriedly, "I merely wanted to ensure that Anisette was well."

She turned to me with a concerned look on her face.

"You looked quite dreadful before you went to sleep, dear. I was almost afraid we had lost you again!"

I shrugged and smiled.

"I feel fine now. A bit tired still, but other than that I feel good as new."

Christine smiled back at me, and I followed her out of the room. I glanced back to see if Erik was looking. He was staring after Christine.

As the days went on, I became more discouraged and frustrated. Even when Christine went home, Erik could barely do anything but talk about her. He kept asking whether I thought she would come back or not. Each time I replied that I didn't know, but truly I figured that she would. Even though Christine didn't love Erik, she still felt compassion and kindness toward him. It seemed as though she was starting to let the bad memories fade away so that they could be replaced with new ones. I felt happy for Erik. This was what he had wanted all along, and now he had it. His newfound happiness, however, meant that I was basically ignored. This is where the frustration came from. I was discouraged because I quickly realized that any romantic dreams I had once held for Erik and myself could never be realized. Christine would marry Raoul, that was for certain, but Erik would never be able to let go. In his mind she would always be the one. I knew that there would be no room in his heart for anyone else, just as there had never been room for anyone else in my heart but Erik, though he seemed oblivious to this fact.

These were the thoughts swimming through my head as I walked down the silent corridors. I had been able to distract Erik from his Christine-fest long enough to procure another map. That was, of course, yet another sign of how far gone his mind was. At any other point in time, Erik would have refused to give out any information, insisting on escorting me himself. As it was, he didn't even seem to remember that I had died only days before. Which was depressing. Fortunately, it gave me the opportunity to get away from the ogling. I didn't care where the tunnels took me, just as long as it was away from there.

I stopped midway through a tunnel and groaned. This was the exact place where I had fallen in and died. By no means had I intentionally come that way, but there I was just the same. A sound came from in front of me, and I squeaked in surprise as a section of the floor came up. What confused me even more was when a man lifted himself from the trap, seemingly unharmed.

"Uhm, are you all right, sir?" I asked hesitantly.

The man whirled around, looked at me for a second, and then began to glare.

"I would be, if it weren't for you." he said menacingly.

"I stepped back in fear. The man was either insane or very confused. I had never seen him before in my life!

"I-I beg your pardon?" I stuttered.

"As well you should." he seethed, "I was only doing my job, yet for some reason you were the _only_ exception to a rule I believed to be set in stone."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" I snapped, "We've never even met!"

A surprised look came over his face, then was slowly replaced by a strange smile.

"Of course you don't." he said in a short tone of voice, "You would never recognize me, at least not in this form…"

That was the moment when I noticed his eyes, green as the summer grass but without any of the warmth. This was the man who had killed me, of that I was certain. And yet, I would have recognized that man, as he looked exactly like Raoul. The person standing before me now bore no resemblance to Raoul at all.

"You can't be…" I muttered under my breath.

He let out a short laugh.

"I'll show you then, shall I?"

With those words, his skin started to vibrate and shimmer, like it was a pool of water that someone had just thrown a small stone in. The effect was quite mesmerizing, and I watched in awe at the changes that quickly took place. Parts of his body gradually settled, and when they did, the man's appearance had transformed into that of my killer. This realization didn't startle me as much as it simply fascinated me.

"Well? Have I jogged your memory a bit, perhaps?" He said with a defiant gleam in his eye.

"How did you do that?" I exclaimed.

He sighed, the arrogance disappearing from his pose.

"All shape shifters have this ability." he explained, "And by all, I mean any that might have previously existed. I am believed to be one of the last, if not _the_ last of my species."

I felt my heart shift a little in my chest.

"That has to be hard," I conceded, "knowing that you'll never be completely understood."

His gaze flickered away from mine momentarily, a familiar look of longing and hurt blazing through them. Then, in an instant, it was gone, replaced by the hardness of moments before.

"Don't feign sympathy. I'm not a fool. I hardly plan on trusting the one who nearly cost me my job."

Sighing in frustration, I turned to go. Before I did, though, something caused me to pause. The shock of seeing my killer and discovering what he was had distracted me. Otherwise, I would have immediately noticed the angry-looking bruise that engulfed his left eye and the surrounding skin.

"I am sorry about your eye," I said with a wince, "You shouldn't have been punished for doing what you were told."

He scoffed at what he assumed was a fake apology and walked away. So much for trying to be the better person. It seemed as though everything I did to help someone else eventually backfired in my face. The simple solution was to stop helping, but that really wasn't an option. Helping people was what I did. It seemed to be my fate, as if I wouldn't be the same person if I simply minded my own business. This was most likely an accurate statement. With a sigh, I gave up on solitude and headed back down toward the Christine-a-palooza, determined to simply ignore the shape shifter if ever we met again. Oh, the ways in which I would soon completely crush that intention…


	12. Games of the Broken Hearted

The dream came again. I'd had it almost every night since my death, and I soon realized that it was more than just a nightmare. The dream itself wasn't all that complex, but it still left me feeling anxious and irritated. Erik and I stood face to face, simply looking at one another. Out of nowhere, he would step forward and embrace me. After getting over the initial shock, I happily wrapped my arms around him. This was the embrace I had been longing for. He wasn't just showing friendly affection, but rather expressing how much he needed me…how much he _loved_ me. Being part of my dream, knowing how much I desired to hear the words, he whispered that he loved me more than life itself. Holding him tighter, I told him that I felt the same, and that I had always felt that way. He pulled back with a smile, adoration shining in his features.

Then the nightmare started. Like the vision I had once seen in the mirror, it was short and to the point. Erik started to disappear, but it was somehow clear that I was the one leaving, not him. This puzzled and startled me, as I couldn't fathom ever leaving Erik, especially if he came to love me. Regardless of this fact, he vanished from my sight. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't return to the place where he was. Panic flooded through me and I called his name into the darkness. Somehow I knew he was gone…forever. Why, I did not know. Right before I would wake up, a terrible epiphany would occur. We had been separated because he loved me.

I woke with a start, more irritated than usual. It was just a dream! I shouldn't have been worrying about Erik's love separating us anyway…because there was no such emotion. Yet. That particular morning, I decided that it was time to find out if there ever could be anything between us. It was time to fight for the attention of the man I loved. Granted, I currently had no idea how to go about doing this, but I knew where a good starting place would be. It was hard enough to get Erik to notice me anymore, especially when Christine was around. She had gone back home to Raoul, true, but she still came around every few days to…well, I wasn't sure exactly what her intentions were. Whatever she had in mind happened to be cutting in on my time with Erik, but I began to think perhaps I might use her presence to my own advantage.

One day when she was visiting, I calmly knocked on Christine's door. She opened it and smiled at me. We had become something similar to friends, though my own jealousy probably hindered our relationship the most. Surprise, surprise. I walked in the door and turned to face her, a pleasant look on my face.

"I am certainly glad you came to visit me, Anisette." She said, still smiling, "It seems like you've been…busy…lately. Is everything all right?"

The last half of her statement was accompanied by a look of concern and slight embarrassment. She knew I'd been avoiding everyone lately, but was too polite to snoop. I simply smiled at her.

"Everything is perfectly fine, my dear. I've simply been investigating my surroundings a bit. I am new to France, you know."

Christine nodded in understanding. To my delight, I found that my last comment left an easy opening to the topic I truly wanted to discuss.

"Speaking of which," I said casually, "I could use some new clothing. I'm sure you've noticed how bizarre I've been dressing."

Christine looked a bit uncomfortable for a moment.

"Your clothing choices certainly are…different." she said delicately.

I laughed.

"Don't be embarrassed, dear. I know I look strange. Which is exactly why I'm here."

When her eyebrows rose in surprise, I continued.

"You seem to have such good taste, I was wondering if perhaps you might assist me in picking out some new things."

Typical of most girls I knew, Christine's face lit up at the prospect of shopping. I personally only performed the chore when absolutely necessary, but this was a minor emergency. I wouldn't be able to distract Erik's attention away from Christine if she was dressed like a princess and I like a homeless person.

"I would love to take you shopping!" she said enthusiastically.

I felt a slow smile cross my lips. My evil plan was working. It was doubtful that her enthusiasm would dim in the few minutes it took her to grab me by the hand and almost drag me out the door. I had expected her to be excited, but I never would have thought that she would want to go shopping that exact moment. Erik's face showed surprise as well, and he looked over at me as if seeing me for the first time. A dark mood settled over me then. That was the exact attitude I wanted to erase. It was that look, that momentary lack of recognition, that I wanted to destroy.

This mood was lightened when I saw the shop Christine had led me to. Granted, I understood nothing of what she and the owner were saying, but that didn't matter. All that mattered were the dresses, the absolutely gorgeous dresses, which surrounded me. It was like I had stepped into a dream. I didn't know how I would ever leave any of them behind. Fortunately, my decision was made easier by the fact that looks were deceiving. Several of the dresses looked just fine on the models, but didn't fit a normal person at all. So, I picked out a few that I thought looked nice and tried them on. Christine grinned and nodded approvingly at each, and they were taken into the back room to be personally tailored. Then…I found it. The dress was made of a dark blue silky material and had long, slender sleeves. Black lace decorated the ends of the sleeves and ran along the neckline, which dipped down on my neck in a hear-shaped pattern. Carefully taking it down, I took it to the side and tried it on. The dress fit perfectly. Confusion entered my mind, and it took me a moment to realize why. Dresses may have come premade in my century, but not this one. Here, every dress was made to measure. So why were these dresses basically perfect?

I commented on this to Christine, leaving out the part about the traditions of my century, and she smiled.

"I thought you might want new clothing eventually, so I took the liberty of ordering them for you. All those years in the chorus made me good at guessing women's sizes."

I smiled back at her. I hadn't been in Paris all that long, but she had gone out of her way to befriend me. She wouldn't even let me pay for the clothing! I was sure that I had enough to pay for ten times that much, but she wouldn't hear of it. Why was she being so nice to me? I had made my dislike of her clear, but still she continued in her sweet way. On the way back to the opera house, I watched her eyes light up as I started a casual conversation. She seemed to truly want my friendship. This chummy moment did not last as long as I would have liked, however. As we approached the entrance to the Rue Scribe, Christine and I said goodbye, and she headed back to the house of the Vicomte.

Curled up in a chair in Erik's study, I reflected on how lonely I had truly become over the last few days. My friends back home wouldn't be available if I tried to message them, as the feeling of writing to them wouldn't be natural as it had been in the past. Erik's preoccupation with Christine had hurt more than I cared to admit, so I hadn't even considered taking to her as an option. Once again I had to remind myself that it wasn't Christine's fault that Erik had fallen in love with her. She was in love with Raoul, who definitely was not to blame. I started to think that maybe I should try a little bit harder to become friends with both of them. With Erik ignoring me, I needed someone to talk to. A thought crossed my mind of a third person I could talk to, but I rapidly shook the thought away in annoyance. The shape-shifter would certainly understand the feeling of being isolated and lonely, but that was only if he had a soul to feel those things. Which he obviously didn't.

I frowned and sat up in the chair. That accusation hadn't been called for in the least. If someone had said that about Erik, I would have beaten him senseless. The shape-shifter had acted rudely, true, but I couldn't really blame him completely for his behavior. I would have been moody too if someone had caused me to almost lose my job. No, my statement about his soul was cruel, and it troubled me that I could even think such a thing, even sarcastically. Where had he gone, anyway? Erik had called him an employee, but the shape-shifter hadn't come around at all. The last I had seen of him was when I tried to apologize, and that had been several days ago. With a sigh, I pushed all thoughts of him out of my mind. I had more important things to think about than disgruntled employees, Erik being at the top of the list. Christine was here again, but I now considered this to be irrelevant. She would be on his mind regardless of whether she was physically present or not. The thought had crossed my mind that she could perhaps even help me in my endeavors.

Tired of sitting in one place, I decided to find Erik and see what he was up to. I stood and walked to the door, pausing to listen when I heard conversation from the other side. There were voices snapping at one another, and I quietly walked out to see what was going on. Erik and the shape-shifter were arguing about something, and Erik won by simply turning around dismissively. The haunted look that momentarily crossed the shape-shifter's face startled me, and I burned with curiosity as to what the argument had been about.

He turned and started to leave, but I grabbed his arm.

"I saw you two had an argument." I said softly, "Is there anything that I can help with? You looked…worried."

He scowled at me.

"Even if there was, I wouldn't take help from you. Not ever."

I stood in slight shock as he stormed out, and then followed him to vent my own anger. This girl had taken enough.

"Hey, you!" I called after him as he crossed the rocks.

The shape shifter turned and looked at me in annoyance as I marched up to him.

"What, may I be so bold as to ask, is your problem?" I asked, forcing myself not to push him, "I realize that I could have cost you your job, but honestly! Any gentleman would at least have the courtesy to-"

He took a step forward and I gasped. You couldn't have fit a hand between us. He leaned down until his face was close to mine.

"Odd…" he whispered, "I never _claimed_ to be a gentleman…"

It was only when he stepped back again that I realized I had been holding my breath. This startled and confused me, and I quickly cleared my mind.

"That may be true, but you should at least make an effort toward those who try to help you!"

He gave a short and sarcastic laugh.

"So says the great Miss Rousseau!"

My face went red.

"You-You-" I stuttered frustratingly in response, "God, what _is_ your name, anyway?"

The look of haughty contempt froze then melted from his face, a look of amazement replacing it.

"What…did you say?" he questioned quietly.

Anger drained from me until I just felt tired. I wasn't angry with the shape shifter.

"I asked you what your name is."

His eyes glazed over for a moment before he replied.

"Adrien. My name is Adrien. I-I had almost forgotten…"

"Forgotten?" I asked skeptically, "How could you forget your own name? Do people just go around saying 'hey you!' or, 'excuse me, Mr. Shape Shifter, sir, but I-'"

My words faded as he winced slightly and turned away. It didn't take me long to figure out what was wrong.

"That is what they do…isn't it?" I asked him softly.

His lack of answer told me plenty.

"I'm sorry, Adrien." I said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "I didn't know…"

He turned to me with an odd look in his eyes, confusion swirling amidst tenderness.

"Why are you so different? Why are you so kind to me, even when I don't deserve it? You shouldn't even talk to a creature like me, not to mention treat me like I was…normal…."

I was shocked by how much his words reminded me of Erik. The similarities were not only startling, but painful as well. Adrien didn't deserve to be treated poorly any more than Erik did, but people didn't seem to care about what they deserved. Anyone who was different was ridiculed and scorned, turned away from society like a criminal. I would never understand the logic behind it, if there were any.

I opened my mouth to answer his question, but was interrupted by a voice from the doorway.

"Anisette, please come back inside." Erik said in an exasperated tone, "I have several things on my mind right now, the last thing I need is for you to get hurt out there."

Refusing to be treated like a child, I turned back to Adrien in defiance. He was already gone, without so much as a goodbye. I returned to the house in complete confusion, wondering where I stood with the man. That question hung in the atmosphere for over a week. By his complete lack of communication, it seemed as though he was telling me to go away and leave him alone. The situation was different than before, as he was actively ignoring me this time instead of simply not being around to talk to. Frustration built within me until I decided to just give up. Once again I reminded myself of the important plan that I had all but forgotten. It was about a week after the strange interaction with Adrien that I finally got back on track and decided to execute my plan.

I went into my room and closed the door as quietly as I could. Tenderly picking up the blue dress I loved so much, I started planning my approach. The dress was beautiful, there was no doubt about that, but it would take more than just a simple change of attire to make me start looking like Christine. Lifting the corset to eye level, I studied it intently. No matter how I turned the thing, I simply couldn't fathom how to get it on by myself. It was obvious I would need some female assistance, and so I calmly walked into the room where Christine and Erik sat looking at one another. The silence I walked into wasn't an awkward one. For once, they were just sitting there enjoying each other's company. Part of me hated to interrupt such a moment, but it was a small part. I barged in.

"Excuse me, Christine dear, but would you mind helping me for a few moments?"

The innocent tone to my voice gave nothing away. It was true that I had nothing truly sinister in mind, but I still felt as though I needed to hide my intentions. I wanted Erik to be taken completely by surprise, which I knew wouldn't be easy. Christine followed me into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

"What exactly is it that I can help you with?" she asked politely.

"This." I replied, holding up the corset, "I need help so that I can look…well…like you."

She gave me a confused look for a moment, but then simply smiled.

"If that's what you want, I shall certainly assist you. What, other than the dress, would you like done?"

Grabbing her hand, I pulled her further into the room. It seemed like forever before we were able to get all the skirts and things on me, and the corset quickly became a new enemy of mine. My dress was even more beautiful when I wore it with the right under things. I felt myself stiffen when Christine picked up the hairbrush. Shivers crawled up and down my spine as she removed the band from my hair. Long blonde locks fell around my shoulders, and she gathered them gently together in her hands. The brush glided smoothly through, but I had to restrain the urge to fidget at the feeling of the weight on the back of my neck.

"Your hair is quite lovely, my dear." Christine purred, "Why do you not wear it down?"

The reason for that was something she would probably understand…if I ever had the guts to tell her. My hair had always been down when I visited Erik, so it was one of the first things to go when I chose to forget him. I hadn't had the heart to cut it off, but constantly kept it up in a bun instead. Cutting it wouldn't have solved the issue anyway, as I would have had to chop it all off to avoid feeling it on my neck. Christine couldn't know of my feelings for Erik, so I simply answered her question with a shrug.

"I guess it never crossed my mind." I said in a nonchalant tone, "A recent activity of mine demanded that it be up, and I never truly got out of the habit."

She nodded and didn't say anything else…until she brushed aside the hair gathered at the front. The look on her face was one of slight shock, and I could tell she wasn't sure how to react. Slowly adjusting my focus to my reflection in the mirror, I gazed upon the small scar at my hairline. I had hidden it for years simply by forcing my hair to form awkward looking bangs. It had never truly settled, almost as if it were a living thing acting in protest of my denial. The scar was one thing that I could never truly forget, no matter how hard I tried.

"I don't suppose you know a way to get my bangs to behave…?" I said as I casually brought them back into place.

Her normally pleasant look changed, and I realized that I was probably being unfair. Christine was wiser than I gave her credit for, so she therefore knew that something was amiss.

"Your…mark isn't all that bad. Were you perhaps born with it?" she asked slowly.

The corner of my mouth twitched upward. She was indeed a crafty one. Christine knew I hadn't been born with the scar, that much was obvious. She was curious as to the story behind it, but her manners prevented her from asking straight out. With a sigh, I pushed my bangs back and looked once again at the scar. A twinge of sadness and longing crossed my features.

"No, my dear, I was not." I replied as I let my hair fall once more, "I received this scar after saving the life of a very good friend…"

The scene appeared before me as I closed my eyes. It was not a pleasant memory.

"He must be very grateful to you." she said quietly.

My eyes snapped open.

"Perceptive one, aren't you?" I commented with a smile, "Yes, he was very grateful…at the time. There are times now that I wonder if he even remembers that night…"

She paused, finished pulling my hair up into a fancier style, then squeezed my shoulders comfortingly.

"I'm sure he remembers, Anisette, no matter what has passed between you since then." she said softly, "He just doesn't forget things like that."

I gave her a small half-smile. For once, she had faith in him that I found myself incapable of. Even if he remembered the night I saved his life, it didn't mean anything to him, not anymore. His refusal to write back had made that perfectly clear. I shook off the feeling that perhaps I hadn't completely forgiven him after all and focused on the task at hand.

The make-up that Christine expertly plastered on me made my face feel like it would plop onto the floor at any moment. After everything was finished, I was certain my reflection would be akin to that of a circus clown. Christine's smile reassured me, and I turned to look at myself in the mirror once again. For a moment I stood still, my mouth slowly opening in shock. My body groaned in protest of the torture it was being put through, but I looked _good_!

"If you don't mind my asking…what happens to be the occasion?" Christine asked curiously.

"Oh, nothing special." I replied with a smile, "I just felt like getting dressed up for once, that's all."

The expression on her face said she didn't believe me, but I didn't care.

I walked into the next room, making a conscious effort not to hold my breath. What if he didn't like the dress? Did I have too much make-up on? Maybe he would think I looked silly! All thoughts of everything else vanished when Erik moved to reach in my direction. My actions had paid off! He was finally going to pay some attention to me after all! I smiled and started to step toward him, but froze when he spoke.

"Ah, Christine, have I mentioned that you're looking quite lovely this evening?"

She placed her hand in his and I could have sworn I heard something within me snap in two. I started to back out of the room in surrender, but then saw a cloaked figure enter and cross to the study. I went around Christine and Erik, following the person until I reached the door of Erik's study. I opened it to find someone sitting in a chair, slumped over as if he were sleeping. Several bottles of liquid lay on the table, though they didn't appear to have been recently opened. Upon further inspection, I discovered that the bottles contained medicine. Wondering if the stranger was in need of medical assistance, I cautiously walked over to him and drew back the hood on his cloak.

I was only slightly surprised to see Adrien, but was certainly shocked at the pale pallor his face had taken. Kneeling beside him, I shook him gently.

"Adrien?"

I called his name, trying to wake him up. His eyes slowly opened, and he looked at me as if through a fog.

"Anisette?" he mumbled confusedly.

"Are you okay?" I asked, concern flooding my voice.

He just kind of stared at me, like there was some mystery he couldn't figure out. Since he didn't answer my question, I took it upon myself to check him. Pulling aside the cloak, I gasped at the amount of blood that immediately met my eyes. I abandoned formalities and ripped his shirt open.

"Dear God," I exclaimed in horror, "you've been shot!"

He looked down at the blood and studied it for a moment.

"So I have…" he said quietly.

I fumbled through the medicine bottles, looking for something that would be of use. After glancing at a few labels, I realized that I had no idea what the names meant.

"You need a doctor." I said, quickly walking toward the door, "Try not to move around. I'll be right back!"

I felt those amazing eyes of his watch me go, but didn't dare look back. Rushing into what served as the living room, I found Erik reading a book. He looked up when I walked in and immediately rose to his feet in alarm.

"Anisette, what on earth is the matter?" he exclaimed.

I took him by the hand and started dragging him toward the study.

"It's Adrien, he's been shot!" I stated worriedly.

"Who?"

"The shape shifter!" I explained in annoyance.

Erik sighed when he entered the room and crossed the floor to examine Adrien's wound.

"Get yourself shot this time, did you?" he said in a slightly bored tone, "Well, maybe this time you'll learn not to take business deals on the side. When I give you a job, it's meant to be full-time. You know your duties. Next time, stick to them."

With that, he turned and grabbed a bottle from a shelf overhead, then handed it to me.

"Pour some of this on the wound." he said as he exited the room, "You can stop a few seconds after he starts yelling."

He left and I stared at the closed door, wondering what that scene had been about. Turning toward Adrien, I opened the bottle and knelt beside him again.

"I apologize in advance for the pain. Just try to hold as still as you can, hon."

At first, nothing happened when I let the clear liquid slowly drop into the small hole located on Adrien's stomach. Then, just when I was tempted to dump the entire bottle on, he let out a cry of agony. Adrien got up, desperately trying to wipe the medicine from his torso. I grabbed his hands and pulled them behind his back. Even in his weakened state, Adrien still put up a fight. It was several minutes before the pain became too unbearable for him to remain standing. I put his arm around my shoulder and led him into the bedroom where he could rest. His screams became more intense as the medicine worked its way deeper into the bullet wound. He shouted obscenities at me when I held him down, fighting to push me away. Beads of sweat appeared all over his body and his face went from being pale to a sickly green color. I dampened a cloth and gently patted his face with it, taking his head into my lap when he groaned in misery. Shivers seemed to work their way outward from the hole, and I took his hand, ready for another wave of pain. He squeezed until I thought my hand would break, turning to muffle his screams in my dress. I simply squeezed back as I held him, murmuring that everything would be all right.

After what seemed like an eternity it was over, and Adrien soon started breathing more easily. Something caught my eye, and I looked up to see Erik standing in the hallway, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at me. Holding my head up a little higher, I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him. Gently moving out from under Adrien, I went toward the door.

"I don't see what you have to be all moody about." I told Erik indignantly, "You're not the one who was shot."

He continued to glare at me, and I took him by the collar and pulled him down to my level.

"Now you listen to me. You can get into as many arguments as you like with Adrien, but I am _not_ going to feel guilty about helping him. You gave up the right to feel jealous a long time ago, not that there's any reason you should be. I barely even know the man!"

I sighed and let go of Erik's shirt, lifting my eyes to his and taking his hands in mine.

"Compassion for others is in my nature, Erik, you know that. Just because I care about someone else doesn't mean I don't care about you."

"I know that." he said with a slight bite in his voice.

I decided to retaliate.

"Good." I stated, abruptly dropping his hands and erasing all hints of tenderness from my tone, "Because to think otherwise, well, that would be _very_ silly."

He stiffened at the dig, and I smiled as I walked away.

"Funny," I called over my shoulder, "I'd forgotten how entertaining playing with you could be."

He clenched his fists and threw invisible daggers in my direction. Very entertaining indeed…


	13. Why Do the Bells Still Ring?

I woke the next morning to a slight movement nearby. When I opened my eyes, I saw Adrien stirring from his slumber, grunting and gritting his teeth in pain as he did so.

"Try not to move around." I said softly.

He looked at me with a mixture of confusion and annoyance.

"What are you doing here?" he asked darkly, "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

I frowned but didn't reply right away. It was obvious that he was purposefully trying to be difficult, and I wasn't certain how to react. Why would he be so hostile when I had just helped to save his life? No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to figure the shape-shifter out. His physical appearance wasn't the only thing that refused to be consistent. The attitude he took toward me and his general demeanor seemed to always be changing. The change usually occurred right as I thought I'd finally figured out a small piece of the puzzle that was Adrien Saulnier. It was frustrating, and yet I couldn't help but be intrigued. I'd figured Erik out a long time ago, but Adrien…he was a mystery I halfway hoped never to solve.

"Actually, no." I replied lightly, "You have the pleasure of my undivided attention. At least for now."

He scowled at me and I resisted the urge to laugh. The healing process had left him weak, and I doubted he could hurt me if he tried. At the most he could just sit there and gripe. Which he did.

"If you insist on being a nuisance, at least hand me that bottle so I can finish healing."

I picked up the medicine and turned to him with a sweet smile before dumping some on his wound with a meaningful look. He howled in pain.

"What the-?"

"We're less than impressed with the attitude." I interrupted, "So I suggest you loose it. Now."

He took the bottle from my hand.

"Go and get yourself shot." he grumbled, "Then come and tell me to improve my attitude."

"That's not what I'm referring to. You've been acting like an absolute jerk, shape-shifter, and frankly I'm growing quite tired of it."

His eyes flared up angrily. I allowed myself a satisfied grin when I turned my back to him. Adrien hated it when I refused to call him by name, mostly because he knew I did it just to annoy him. He might have been a royal pain, but Adrien was smart. Since people tended to ignore him, he was able to develop very good people-watching skills. Sometimes I could have sworn he knew what Erik was going to do even before he did it. The two bickered every time they met, mostly due to their similarities. I took comfort in the fact that I was the one person Adrien couldn't figure out, and took advantage of it every time I saw him. I paused one day to consider why I enjoyed toying with Adrien so much…and why I watched him so closely when he came around.

I shook off the feeling of discomfort these thoughts brought and returned to the novel I was reading. Adrien had healed quickly and been up on his feet in less than a week. Since then I had focused on staying of Erik's way. Christine hadn't come back for a while, which made him very moody. So I contented myself with staying in my room to read one of the novels I'd brought with me from my own time, the _Circle Series_ by Ted Dekker. It offered relief from my own two-world experiences. Life seemed less crazy when portrayed in a work of fiction. Of course, I couldn't hide from Erik forever. We were all alone in his small abode, and he would eventually remember that he had someone he could complain to.

I had tears on my cheeks when he stormed in unannounced. He stared at me for a moment.

"Why are you crying?"

The question was not so much one of concern as it was of incredulousness. It was as if he couldn't believe that I would have the audacity to cry when he was the one who should be the center of attention.

"I came to an emotional part of my book." I said defensively, "Why, am I not allowed to have emotions now?"

My comment annoyed him, which made me smile as I pretended to resume reading...also simply to annoy him. Erik snatched the book from my hands and threw it across the room in a fit of impatience.

"Hey!" I protested.

"I'm trying to talk to you. It's not polite to ignore people when they talk to you."

"I've been here for over a month, Erik." I said flatly, "You've had plenty of time to talk to me, but you've been a bit preoccupied with trying to woo someone else's fiancée."

I knew I had crossed a line, but I didn't care. Playing with Erik was fun, but sometimes I let my true feelings slip out through the cracks.

"That's not what I've been doing and you know it!" he hissed, yet I could tell that his gaze wasn't lining up with mine.

I sighed and rolled my eyes, wanting to return to my book rather than argue with Erik on a subject he would lie about all day long.

"What is it you want me to do, Erik?" I asked in a tired tone, "I can't force her to come back, and honestly I think her absence is a good thing. Maybe we could spend some time together now."

I smiled and batted my eyes at him innocently, waiting for the disgruntled look I knew would follow.

"But I don't want-" he stopped himself in the middle of a sentence.

The fake happiness on my face melted away. The suggestion of my replacing Christine in any way had been meant as a jab at his ignorance of me. It had been part of my game. I had never expected it to backfire. I had never expected him to come straight out and say he didn't want to be around me. I refused to let it hurt. Instead, I simply got up from my seat and headed toward the door. Erik remained silent, possibly afraid of speaking any other truths he didn't want me to know. A bitter taste filled my mouth, and I turned to him with anger in my eyes.

"I'm going to go check on her, but don't be surprised if there's no one home."

He looked at me in confusion and I shrugged nonchalantly.

"She may have decided to actually get married. Who knows? Maybe she and the Vicomte eloped, never to be heard from again! Wouldn't that be romantic?"

Erik jumped in shock, and then let the life go out of his body. He looked like a kid whose mother had told him he couldn't have his best friend over to play. I smirked as I left the house. His attitude had been reminiscent of a child's the past week. With all his sulking and pouting, you would think someone had died. It was annoyingly pathetic, but there was little I could do about it except try to make him angry instead. Most of the time it worked, but I had just witnessed one of the times when it failed.

My mood lifted as I walked, the moon glimmering down at me. A visit to Christine and Raoul would cheer me up, of that I had no doubt. The two lovers seemed to have taken a liking to me, and I wasn't ashamed to admit I felt the same way toward them. I'd been to visit them a few times, more to see Raoul than anything else. Christine had become my best friend in that time period, but I sometimes saw her more often than my own reflection. I was surprised that Raoul liked me so much, especially considering the nature of our first meeting. Instead of being cautious or confused, the young Vicomte laughed at the strangeness of that encounter and commended my sense of loyalty (though he made it clear that he thought I'd made an unwise choice of companion). I had been too caught up in my games with Erik and Adrien to visit as of late, however, and I found myself bouncing on my heels in excitement as I entered the mansion once more.

The hustle and bustle that usually filled the house was absent, leaving a nasty tension hanging in the air. I desperately wanted to make some sort of noise to fill the silence, but didn't dare call attention to myself with the servants skulking around every corner. Though I was dressed very daintily that day, I could tell that their eyes were drilling into me from every direction. A servant blocked my way and shook his head at me. Apparently I wasn't welcome. Big surprise there. I simply looked at the wiry man standing in my path and attempted to stare him down. He simply glared right back at me. I smirked at him and took a deep breath.

"ANYONE HOME?" I bellowed, causing the servant to stagger backward in surprise.

Quick footsteps sounded from the top of the stairs, and soon Raoul appeared, making his way down and trying to stifle a smile. I grinned at him and looked back at the servant in triumph. I had won once again, much to the servant's chagrin. Christine followed closely behind her fiancé, her face broken out into a full-fledged smile and a laugh spilling unrestrained from her lips. The pair came down the rest of the way side by side, and I let my smile settle into one of tenderness. They looked perfect together, and for a brief moment I envied their happiness. I remember then how hard they had fought to keep that happiness, and my envy turned to respect.

I embraced Christine and shyly let Raoul take my hand in greeting. He was so proper that at times I wasn't sure how to react. The slightly awkward moment passed, and we struck up a conversation. I purposefully avoided the subject of Erik, which I knew they were thankful for.

"We were actually about to leave for a while." Christine said casually, "Would you like to accompany us? The trip won't take but a few hours, and we'd love to have you along."

I tilted my head and looked at her questioningly. She was hiding something. Raoul shook his head very slightly, a look of warning in his eyes. Hiding my surprise and concern, I smiled at them and played along.

"Sure, I'm up for a nice little trip. Anything to get out of the house once in a while, you know."

They walked slowly out to the carriage sitting in front and I followed, wondering what the big deal was about a carriage ride through the country. We were a fair piece away from civilization when my two friends finally let out a sigh of relief.

"What on earth is this all about?" I asked, my curiosity about to take on a life of its own.

They looked at me apologetically.

"We didn't mean to drag you into this, Anisette," Raoul said calmly, "but you came at a rather inconvenient time. You see, we're eloping tonight."

I stared at them, waiting for the punch line. They simply stared back at me, holding each other's hands lovingly. Mixed feelings filled me. I smiled and congratulated them on the outside, but truly I was a bit panicked. What would I tell Erik when I got back? I'd made that crack about the two lovers eloping, and now they were actually doing it! I felt like a bit of a heel because of that, but there was nothing that could be done. Instead of feeling guilt and anxiety over the heartbreak I knew would inevitably come to Erik, I chose to live happily in the moment. Two of my friends were getting married, and I would be one of the scant few to witness it!

"We were going to wait," Raoul explained, "but the servants are still loyal to the wishes of my deceased brother. They could have made things rather…difficult."

I nodded in understanding. Sometimes it was just easier not to have to mess with the hassle of other people's opinions.

"I am glad you're with us, Anisette." Christine said with a smile, "You would have been the first one I wrote to about it afterward, and, well, I was originally hoping you might be maid of honor…"

She blushed a little and my jaw dropped open. I hadn't felt that touched in a long time.

"It would be _my_ honor." I said quietly with tears in my eyes.

The carriage stopped and Christine leaned over to give me a strong hug. Her smile couldn't have been wider as she stepped out and headed toward the small church in front of us. It would be an outside ceremony, but Christine wanted to change into her wedding dress first. I helped her into it, taking extra care not to damage the delicate lace on the neckline and sleeves. She looked absolutely radiant in the pristine gown, yet it also highlighted her delicate features, making her look like a fragile doll. The look in Christine's eyes defied this, showing strength I wished resided within my own heart.

We walked outside and toward the waiting priest, but she paused and turned at the last minute to hurry in the opposite direction. I looked after her in confusion. A man beckoned to her from the street, gesturing to a bouquet of flowers he held in his right hand. Christine motioned for me to continue on toward the ceremony, but I frowned and started after her.

"Christine, wait!"

I called and hurried my pace as she reached the stranger. He handed over the flowers as Christine held out her hand, and I scowled. Here was the part where he would grab her by the wrist and whisk her off to an unknown location. And yet, the flowers were passed with no trouble. I didn't slow my pace, but wondered who the man was. Christine turned, flowers cupped under her chin with a smile. I grinned back at her. Then she gasped as steel pierced through her body. Feet frozen in horror, I could only yell over my shoulder for Raoul. The assailant removed his sword and forced Christine to look him in the face. Then he sank into the ground. I blinked and searched for him, but he had simply disappeared. Shocked back to life by the unexplainable phenomenon, I sprinted the rest of the way to Christine's side.

"You're gonna be okay." I said shakily, "Just try to stay awake.

Tears slid down her cheeks about five times slower than mine. Raoul was running toward us now, but I knew it was too late. There were only false words of comfort to be given, none of true worth could be found. I held them back. She would only smile sadly at me if I tried to give her hope. Instead, I listened as she spoke.

"He had black eyes, Anisette." she said in wonder, "That's what he wanted to show me. They were all black…with eternal fire shining in their depths. What does that mean?"

I watched as her dress slowly turned crimson. How would I explain this…to anyone, myself included? The eye thing was clearly a delusion brought on by shock. As to what it meant…I had no clue, and didn't want one.

"Don't give up on him." she whispered.

I looked at her in confusion. What was she talking about? Not her attacker. Revenge wasn't Christine's style, so the 'him' clearly referred to someone else.

"I know you think he doesn't love you. He does. Make him see…"

I wanted to ask how long she had known about my feelings for Erik, but there was no point. None of that mattered. Not now. Not when Raoul dove to the ground to scoop his would-be bride's lifeless form up into his arms. Not when he sat there cradling her and stroking her pale cheek and whispering for her not to go. Not when the tears ceased to flow down our faces and the chill of the ground seeped into our very souls. No…not then.

Raoul didn't say a word to me as we rode back, and I didn't want him to. He needed to cry and let his pain escape, but he held it all in. It was late when we reached Raoul's house. I saw the yellow orbs gleaming in the darkness as we arrived. They weren't a surprise. What I would tell Erik no longer bothered me as I stepped toward the hidden spot where he stood watching. I let him hiss quietly about how late it was, taking comfort in his voice. I made believe if I listened long enough, everything would be normal again. I knew it wouldn't work. I stood in numb silence. He somehow found out about the wedding. I tried to tune him out as he rants about it. I wished he would shut up. He asked about the bells. The marriage was over. He didn't understand why they were still ringing.

"Christine's dead." I said coldly, "A stranger killed her before the wedding and then disappeared. _That_ is why the bells ring."

He finally fell silent. We were both quiet until after the funeral. That was three days later. When everyone else had gone, I let myself feel again. My knees gave up and I fell onto the freshly turned dirt. Raoul stayed a moment, then turned and left. He still had not cried the tears buried deep within. Erik watched from somewhere in the shadows, still as a stone and just as emotionless. Never once did he give comfort or show signs of needing same. I felt like I cried tears for all three of us, yet realized I could only cry for myself. The tears came harder.

It was a week before I dared visit the Vicomte. Erik was still quiet and withdrawn, refusing to even look at me. The servant's entrance was somehow devoid of people, so I snuck in that way. I didn't want to tangle with the man at the front door. Not today. Even so, I came face to face with a different servant. He was fairly short, yet big for his height. I stared at the menacing face he had conjured up just for me.

"I'm not afraid of you." I said quietly.

The man's face turned blood red in unexpected anger. Surprised at this rash reaction, I stepped out of the way just as he grabbed for my arm. He made another grab for me, but was held back by Raoul, who had appeared from nowhere with a look of quiet rage.

"Let her be, you treacherous scum." he said between gritted teeth.

With a sneer, the servant turned and walked away. I looked at Raoul. It was obvious that the only sleep he might have received since I'd last seen him was when he passed out from exhaustion. I could also tell that he still had not grieved properly. It was tearing him apart.

"It was the servants, you know." he said in a shaky voice, "They told the man where to find us. All he had to say was that he would stop the wedding. No one even stopped to ask how or why."

There was nothing I could say to that. Hating the servants wouldn't bring my friend back, yet I knew that's what Raoul expected me to do. He also expected me to be able to handle my own emotions. Well, perhaps that's not right. No, he didn't think about my emotions at all when he did it. He just listened to the voices in his head that said she was never coming back. He wanted them to stop.

"I'm glad you're here, Anisette." he said in a raspy voice, "I know you cared about her…you still do. You can mourn her. I can't. You know I can't. I'm just sorry…sorry you have to bear the weight. It wasn't my intention..."

He pulled a pistol from the folds of his shirt.

"Raoul, don't. Please." My voice was tired, my eyes conveying the panic I felt inside.

"I'm sorry." he whispered, and pulled the trigger.

A few of the servants in the room screamed or stared at their master's body in horror.

"And the bells ring on…" I muttered to myself.

I walked silently out the front door and headed home, trying to erase the fresh memory of my dear friend's brains being ejected from his skull.


	14. Emerald Eyes and Secret Lives

I trudged back home with a heavy heart. If only I could get back, then everything would be all right. Erik would be crushed by Christine's passing, so we could take comfort in the fact that we weren't alone in our grief. I walked without even thinking about where I was going, yet somehow when I came out of my daze I was in my room. Erik either hadn't noticed my entrance or didn't care. The probability of it being the latter was great, but I had grown strangely used to his steady ignorance of me. I fingered my locket as I sat on the edge of the bed. For a while I had been wishing that I were back in my dingy little apartment working overtime until I passed out on the old couch I'd grown to hate so much. It was easy to hate objects or even people when things went sour. Here in a century I didn't belong in, no one could be blamed. I didn't know what to do with that…other than sit numbly on the bed with my eyes closed, longing for Dorothy's ruby slippers and a place I could call home.

"Home…"

I hadn't realized that I'd said the word out loud until I felt the locket being ripped out of my hands and off of my neck. A cry of surprise escaped my lips and my eyes snapped open. Erik was standing there, hands clenched at his sides. I simply stared.

"What were you doing with this?" he asked as he held up the locket, voice vibrating with fury.

"I felt homesick and it reminds me of my own time. What's your problem?" I asked without emotion.

He turned and left the room without a word, and I followed him with an exasperated sigh. We stopped outside of his home and he immediately spun to face me.

"You will never mention 'home' again. This is your home now. Do you understand me?" he said through clenched teeth.

Emotion started to return to me in the form of annoyance. What was he playing at?

"No, I don't think I do. Why should it matter if I think of home? You don't really have any say in the matter since you actually owe me your life. I gave up everything to come here, yet you've not seemed to appreciate that fact in the least. So pardon me if I want to go back to a place where I have friends waiting with open arms. If you're not careful, I might do just that! Now give my locket back."

The threat of leaving had been an empty one since I had no idea how to go about doing that, but it sent Erik over the edge all the same. I reached for the locket and he used that same arm to knock me to the ground.

"I knew it!" he spat, "This locket is your method of transportation, isn't it? Yes, I see the shock on your face. Well, there's only one way to deal with this."

My shock had more to do with the extreme jump in logic that Erik had just performed, but he sent the locket flying before I could speak a word. It landed with a plop in the deepest part of the lake and disappeared into its murky depths.

"What-why did you-_why_?" I sputtered in disbelief, eyes wide.

"You've saved my life countless times, yet you didn't save the life of the woman I loved. Whether it was hatred of her or of myself that led you to allow this, I do not know. It doesn't matter. This is your fault, and you owe me more than you can ever give. You will not leave me. I don't want to take away your freedom, but it appears as though it has become necessary."

As I stood slowly to my feet, everything fell into place with a loud click. I had finally fallen from the pedestal Erik had placed me on so long ago, and now he was trying to pull the same stunt on me that he had with Christine. At any other time, I would have pitied him. The way he blamed me for her death made no sense and was a desperate attempt to rationalize something even I didn't understand. If Erik had shown any hint of the man I had once loved, I would have taken him in my arms and explained that threats weren't necessary, that everything would eventually be okay again. Instead of pain I only saw cold anger and hate consuming him. The sight of him disgusted me.

"Erik." I called as he stepped toward the house.

He started to turn toward me and I let my right fist fly. The impact was made even more powerful by his movement, knocking him to the ground. Surprise filled his features as he slowly reached up to touch his jaw.

"You think you can hold me here?" I said flatly, "Go ahead and try. I'll just end up leaving forever…and I promise I will make your life even more of a living hell before I do."

I crossed the lake, not knowing where I would go and not caring. When I looked back for a brief moment, Erik was standing at the edge of the water, still holding his jaw and staring after me with an expressionless look on his face. Tears started falling painfully from my eyes as I realized he wasn't going to come after me. Even if he did, I knew whatever tenderness he might exhibit would merely be a trick to lure me back. To survive him, I would have to harden myself against him. I would have to forget everything I once thought he was…and I would have to forget the fact that I was still in love with him. My chest burned as I held back tears of pain and rage.

"What's the hurry?" Adrien called as I walked the corridors, "I hope you don't have someone else's life to disrupt, that should be reserved for me."

I turned around slowly, nearly seeing red as I took in the defiant look on the shape-shifter's face. He never saw me coming as I launched myself at him, and grunted as I let my hands pound into his chest. After a minute he was able to grab onto them. I struggled to get free, my voice bouncing off of the walls as I yelled at him.

"You ungrateful idiotic _thing_! I've tried to be kind and tolerant toward you, even gave you time to get accustomed to me and loosen up. Still you persist in avoiding and antagonizing me. No matter what I do it's never enough! Why isn't it ever enough…"

Tears streamed painfully from my eyes as I sobbed, blurring my sight until I gave up and let my eyelids fall. Strong arms wrapped around my body and picked me up. I clung to the man's shirt, not caring who it was, yet despising myself for hoping it was Erik. I was still shuddering with emotion when I finally let my ears function for a brief moment so I could get a sense of where I was. There were covers over me and I could feel a comfortable mattress underneath me. It felt like my bed at Erik's, but I didn't dare open my eyes to find out. Then came the voices.

"What did you do?" Adrien growled.

"What makes you think I did anything?" Erik spat in reply.

"Maybe the fact that you've got a nice bruise on your face that's about the size of her fist? Or perhaps because you mysteriously disappeared the same time she came running from here and there wasn't any sign of you for nearly _two days_?"

"I've been gone longer and returned with far worse marks than this. Besides, you're a far better suspect than I, what with your chest looking the way it does."

"Get out. Now."

"You can't force me from my own home. If you think you can, just try it. I guarantee you'll regret it, shape-shifter." Erik seethed.

"Maybe not, but I can shove you out of this room easily enough. The way she came at me, I thought she'd lost her mind. In all honesty I think she almost did. Seeing you so soon after…whatever happened…could do some sort of permanent damage."

There were no more words as the door clicked shut. Had they both left, or just Erik? Taking my chances, I opened my eyes. Adrien sat in a chair across from me bent over with his elbows on his knees, his mouth resting against folded hands. His eyes were closed and his brow was furrowed in what I took to be worry.

"Adrien?" I called softly.

His eyes snapped open and he crossed the room with a few long strides. I appreciated his silence as he sat down beside me.

"Raoul…the Vicomte… is dead." I said slowly, "He shot himself. I saw it. There was no stopping him. It wasn't my fault. Christine's death wasn't my fault either."

My voice shook at the last words and I looked up at Adrien, eyes pleading for confirmation. He tilted his head slightly to the side and gave me a confused look.

"Of course it's not your fault. What could possibly make you think it was?"

I bowed my head and muttered the only excuse I had.

"Erik…he said-"

Fire flashed in Adrien's eyes and his body tensed, my surprise at his reaction cutting me off.

"Forget what he said. You aren't responsible for any of the misfortunes that have happened since you arrived. Not a single one."

He looked at me purposefully and some of the emotional tension in my chest relaxed. Adrien didn't blame me for what had happened between he and Erik. His attitude toward me came from other sources. I could guess pretty easily what they were, and it made me ache. He was so much like Erik…or who I thought Erik was.

"Thank you." I said, and wrapped my arms around him in a hug to hide the oncoming tears.

Adrien tensed and grunted. I pulled away quickly, looking at him in concern.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." he said with a small smile.

His eyes held pain, and my eyes grew wide as I remembered Erik's words about bruising. Without giving him a warning, I pulled his shirt down a bit. An ugly blackish purple mark appeared on his skin, and I wordlessly ignored his protests and pulled his shirt over his head to see that his entire chest was covered with large bruises.

"Oh god…Adrien, I-I'm so sorry…" I said, covering my mouth to stifle a sob.

Tears fell down my face again as I closed my eyes to the damage I'd caused. Anyone else would have been fine, but Adrien didn't heal as well as a human would and therefore was more easily injured. I felt his fingers gently brush my cheeks as he wiped my tears away.

"Anisette, of all the things to cry about, don't waste tears on me. You've spent enough on the people who deserve it…though the worthiness of one is quite debatable…"

Anger rose within me and I burned him with my eyes.

"Don't you dare tell me who's worthy of my tears. I'm the only judge of that, not you."

He bowed his head in resignation.

"I didn't mean to anger you. His behavior toward you has just been so deplorable… I doubt he understands how much pain he causes you."

"Oh, he understands." I said bitterly, "He just doesn't care."

"Then what makes him worthy of this?" Adrien said as he gestured at me, "Enlighten me. Give me one good reason, I beg of you."

"He's not." I said quietly, "I wasn't referring to Destler. I was referring to you."

His mouth silently dropped and he stared at me with panic and fear in his eyes.

"Adrien-" There was nothing I could say that would help him at that moment, so I called his name, pouring all my emotions into it as a plea.

His lips moved as if to speak, but all that came out were mumbles I assumed to be directed at himself. Dark hopelessness started to freeze his eyes to cold emerald stone again.

"_No_." I whispered vehemently, as I took his face in my hands, "I won't loose you, Adrien. I can't."

The darkness paused as he looked at me cautiously. I leaned forward and spoke even more softly into his ear.

"Let me in. I need you to…_Please_…"

I pulled back and slowly pressed my lips to his. At first he stiffened as if he were going to run, so I wrapped my arms around him and held the kiss for as long as my lungs would let me. When I pulled back to catch my breath, I slid back into a normal sitting position and let my arms fall. My hands clung weakly to his, unable to let him go completely…unwilling to admit defeat. I jumped in shock as Adrien kissed me full force, his hands clutching my arms as if I would run or simply disappear. I moved into the kiss and felt his body emit shock waves. If he'd tried to scare me off, he now knew it wasn't going to work. We fell into an embrace, both struggling to catch our breath.

"I love you, Adrien." I admitted.

He stopped breathing and his mouth tried to form words that refused to come. A few tears trickled down his face instead, his eyes filled with confusion and hurt searching mine for explanation. The pain surprised me. It was as if he had experienced some sort of betrayal of his trust even as he felt it slipping from him.

"You can believe me." I assured him, "I. Love. You."

Each word was accompanied by a gentle kiss on the cheek, forehead, and then finally the lips. This kiss was different from the others. I gave it tenderly and he returned it with hesitance. The others had been desperation through and through, but this kiss was based upon love. Though he hadn't spoken the words, I could feel them in the way my lips melted into his and the nerves beneath my skin tingled in response to the caress he gave my cheek as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. It made me light headed and happy. Too long had I been focused on the idea that I had gotten Erik's diary because he and I were destined to be together. It obviously was never meant to be. Perhaps the real reason had nothing to do with Erik or his childhood, but rather my strange attraction to the ever-hesitant man who was now slowly wrapping his shaking arms around my waist. He could be cold and harsh, but his kisses and the tears that occasionally landed on my skin begged me for help. Erik had been much more drastic in his pleas, yet he had never let me get close enough to make a permanent difference, even as a friend.

The thought of Erik made me stiffen. What would he do if he ever found out about my new relationship with Adrien? If his actions toward Raoul and Christine's love were any indication, things would not go well. Adrien paused in his advances and looked at me.

"Second thoughts, I presume?" he asked quietly.

I smiled and took his hands in mine. "Not in the least. I was just thinking…it might be beneficial for us to keep this between ourselves. As you've probably noticed, Erik can be very possessive. I doubt he would be happy about…us."

He frowned for a moment but then slowly nodded in agreement. I sighed in relief and relaxed back into his arms, glad that he didn't need further convincing. The last thing I needed was for Erik to start an argument, and truthfully it was easier to hide this new relationship than try to make sense of it. So for once I forgot about what would be best for Erik and focused on my own happiness. Taking care not to put too much pressure on his bruises, I gently placed my head on Adrien's chest and sighed contentedly. There wasn't a single place I wanted to be more.

The arrangement between us continued for nearly a year, and I could tell it was starting to put a strain on our relationship. Adrien wanted to tell Erik about us and couldn't understand my reluctance. He insisted that any protest from Erik could simply be handled by my going through with my threat of leaving. It made perfect sense, yet I couldn't bring myself to leave Erik alone. Stress also came from the fact that Erik _did_ know about my love for Adrien. He hadn't let on that he knew, but that was only because he was waiting to use it against me somehow. There was no way that I had fooled Erik. Was there? Not knowing for certain was worse than having an affirmation of my fears. At least then I could have confronted him about it or anticipated his wrath. I toyed with the idea of simply telling him and getting it over with, but shoved the thought aside with a shiver each time it came. I was too happy to let my own loud mouth ruin things…or so I thought.

If I had to pinpoint the incident that decided my future, I would be hard pressed to do so. It was more a chain of events than anything, though I suppose one could say my love for Adrien is what started the whole thing. The day Erik found out about Adrien was truly the day that changed everything, and it came in a way I never expected…and when I was already defeated.

I walked into the living room one day to find Erik standing with his hands behind his back, staring at the floor with a bent head.

"Something wrong?" I asked casually.

"Tell me, Anisette," he said after a moment, "do you care for me at all?"

"Of course I do. What kind of a stupid question is that?"

"I wasn't sure. My behavior as of late…Christine's passing was difficult, yet…I cannot excuse…"

The words trailed off and his shoulders bunched together in a large cringe that didn't seem to fade. I stared at him and wondered what had brought on such a bout of remorse. It had to be a trick.

"No, and neither can I. But what's done is done, so let's just get on with our lives, shall we?" I replied briskly.

My hand was turning the doorknob when I heard his quiet response.

"I've lost you…haven't I?"

"What do you mean?" I said in surprise, turning back into the room as I did so.

"The shape-shifter...Saulnier…you're leaving with him soon. Don't think I haven't seen it, though I can understand why you would keep your relationship hidden. Were you-Were you going to say goodbye?"

His tone was broken, though I could tell Erik was trying to speak with meek dignity. It was so unexpected, I couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed. If I had decided to leave with Adrien, Erik simply would have found me gone. I'd made the mistake of thinking I wouldn't be missed. Learning I'd been wrong unsettled me.

"I-I don't know. Probably something like that, yes. I'm glad you know. This makes things easier…unless you plan on trying to stop me."

I added bite to my words and waited for a reaction. Once again, I was surprised.

"No…I won't try to stop you. I doubt that would work in my favor, and I have no right to try. I-I just…"

His shoulders sagged and his hands dropped to his sides as he lowered his head in defeat. I watched in silent confusion. This Erik had been gone for so long, I'd taken him for lost. I slowly stepped forward and turned him to face me. Erik's eyes were still closed and resignation was written all over him.

"Don't forget me." he pleaded quietly, "Even if you hate me for the rest of your life…don't forget who I once was…what you once felt…please."

"How long have you known?" I asked in a shaky voice, "When did you realize how I really felt about you?"

"I've always known!" he cried, "Ever since we first met, I've had the feeling…but never was I wise enough to act. I shall always mourn…what could have been…"

His voice broke and I stepped forward to embrace him tightly, tears running down my face. If only this had happened sooner, but now it was too late…

"I know it means little, but I must know…" Erik said as he bent to whisper in my ear, "Do you love me still?"

"Yes. I always will. Always." I whispered rapidly through my tears.

I was quickly shoved away with a mixed cry of pain and anger. Shocked, I looked at Erik like he was crazy.

"What was that about?" I asked crossly.

"You truly don't understand the twisted way in which you're living, do you?" he spat.

I took on a blank stare, wondering what he could possibly mean.

"What did I do?" I asked confusedly.

He slowly turned toward me, and for the first time he opened his eyes to glare at me. My hand flew to my mouth to prevent a scream of shock from escaping as a thousand different inadequate explanations buzzed through my brain. What could I say to make him understand my intentions? What could I do to erase the hurt behind the growing hate he felt toward me? I couldn't. Words failed and left me helpless as I stared into the accusing eyes…of Adrien.


	15. An Unlikely Betrayal

I swallowed hard and tried once again to speak, praying that more would come out than just a whimper.

"Let me explain." I said slowly as I reached for Adrien's hand.

He jerked away from me with a look of contempt on his face. I should have known it wouldn't be that easy, but I'd allowed myself to hope.

"How long were you planning on waiting for him?" he said in a low tone.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Fine, I'll spell it out for you, shall I?" Adrien replied, venom filling every word, "You love Destler and always have, but he doesn't return those feelings because he's been so obsessed with Christine that he failed to notice any other breathing thing on the planet. After several failed attempts to divert his attention, you decided that it was time to try something new. I then conveniently waltzed into the picture. You decided to be nice to me, to try to win me over to your side. It obviously worked. Then you followed through with the rest of your plan of making me believe you loved me. Me! I don't know how I could have been so stupid, but then again you are a _very_ convincing actress, Miss Rousseau. The next stage of your plan was simple enough: keep Destler from finding out about 'us' until the right moment. Preferably he would stumble upon the realization that we'd been together for over a year. This would both humiliate and anger him, yet it would also make him jealous, which was your true intent. When he confronted you, you would manipulate the situation so that he would confess his feelings for you. After acting appropriately shocked, you would fall into his arms and the two of you would go along your merry way."

I stood in shocked silence. Never would I have expected him to think such a thing about me. Yet how could I blame him? I'd been too wrapped up in the joy and heartache of having my old Erik back to explain out loud that Erik's feelings had been revealed too late. But for Adrien to think I had _planned_ to hurt him like that…

"I wouldn't do that to you, Adrien, I swear it."

"You honestly think you can deny everything?" he said incredulously, "After what you said-"

"I never said anything about leaving you for him." I interrupted desperately.

"It wasn't necessary!" he shouted, "Your actions were more than sufficient to get the point across!"

He took a few deep breaths then stepped toward me with a determined look on his face.

"If you truly mean what you say, if you don't plan to leave me for him, then do the opposite. Come with me and I'll take you away from here. We can be together and you'll never have to think about Destler again. All you have to do…is say yes."

I glanced at the hand that he held out, and then looked into his eyes. Taking his hand would fix everything between us…

"I can't." I replied softly, "Please, try to understand. I do love Erik, and I always will, but-"

"You said it again! Curse it all, woman, have you no sense? He doesn't love you and he never will! Even if his beloved Christine were still alive, he would still be too infatuated with her to notice you! Even if you told him how you feel, the idiot wouldn't respond, because that's just how he is!"

Adrien tore off the mask and threw it to the ground, then continued, seething.

"You know what? The two of you deserve each other. Not that I think he'd ever listen to your feelings. But what do I care? Go. Find him and see for yourself. If he accepts your sick devotion, then the two of you can be manipulative emotional icebergs of inhumanity together!"

He unleashed a roar of fury and moved swiftly for the door.

"No, wait!" I cried after him, but he was already gone. "I love you…" I said softly, knowing I was too late.

Everything inside of me went cold and numb. Without taking the time to stare at the empty spot where Adrien had been a moment before, I turned and headed to my room. My chest started to defrost as I removed my iPod from my bag, so I curled up on the bed and waited for pain. I cringed as it came. Everything in me said to cry, but the shock of Adrien's words kept them from falling. He had called me cold, cruel, and manipulative. Was I? The plan he'd described certainly hadn't been my intention…had it? There was no doubt in my mind that I cared for Adrien, but was it truly love or simply a desire to help him see his own self-worth? My love for Erik was different from what I felt with Adrien. One was frustrating and intense, while the other was simple and comforting. Which was right? Did I even have a choice anymore? Erik had never shown interest in taking our relationship to the next level, and lately even our friendship was severely in question. Adrien loved me, but I didn't know whether he would listen to any form of apology I might offer. His attitude strongly suggested that the answer to that was a big fat 'no'.

Heavy metal blasted away the feelings of anxiety and loss that I felt creeping up on me. I was just starting to get calm enough to think rationally when Erik walked in.

"Whatever you're about to say, don't." I told him softly, removing my headphones as I did so.

"And what makes you think I was going to say something?"

"You wouldn't have walked in here if you didn't want to gripe about something. Any other time I would be more than happy to have that battle, but at the moment I'm honestly just not in the mood."

"And what, may I ask, has caused such a sour disposition?"

I sighed and closed my eyes. Why couldn't he just take the hint and go away? It was obvious that Erik was criticizing rather than inquiring in concern. The man truly had become a nuisance.

"If you absolutely must know, I had a fight with Adrien."

"The subject of which was…?"

"He wanted me to leave with him."

I looked up when silence followed, suddenly wondering if I should have simply told Erik to mind his own business. He was standing as still as a statue, and I could feel his eyes drilling into me as he connected the dots in his head.

"How long?" he asked in a soft, dangerous voice.

"How long what?" I replied innocently, trying to undo my mistake yet making a larger one in the process.

"Don't lie to me. If he wishes to take you with him, then you obviously have a different relationship than I have been led to believe. So for the last time, I want to know... How. Long. You. Have. Been. With. Him."

"About a year." I said quietly, praying he wouldn't try to hurt me.

"And now?"

"I told you…we had an argument…I don't know what's going to happen. He wants me to leave, but I've told him repeatedly that I can't."

"Indeed." he growled.

"You don't have to sound so assured of yourself." I snapped, "I've told you before, if I want to leave then I will. I'm just...not ready for that yet."

"It sounds as though you never will be. Saulnier no longer seems to be an option, and it's highly doubtful you would journey into this century alone."

He stepped closer to me and got in my face.

"If I were you, I would accept the point that fate is trying to convey." he hissed.

Hatred bubbled up within me, and I murmured the words that I would come to regret in many ways.

"It's times like these I wish I'd never found that stupid diary."

Erik tensed, clenching his fists. He took one look at my iPod and snatched it from where I had placed it on the bed, then turned and left the room without saying another word.

"What do you think you're doing?" I barked as I quickly followed him to the lake.

"You insist on remembering that place you came from, though I've warned you to forget it. Now you go behind my back to have relationships with the hired help? I've had enough. It's time you learned that the Phantom does not make idle threats."

Time slowed as he started smashing the device against the rocks. I dove toward him in horror, hoping that only the outer metal would be damaged, but I could only watch as he sent it flying toward the same spot in the lake my locket had landed. My jaw dropped in disbelief. I'd shown Erik my iPod soon after I'd arrived in his century. He'd been curious as to its purpose, so I let him investigate the wonders of portable music. Though my taste in artists had been highly criticized, Erik's eyes had shone with a special gleam of respect. Of the limited items I'd been able to transport with me, music had obtained top priority, and he was secretly happy about this discovery. Music was one of the things that had always connected us, as we could live without air easier than without our main form of expression. By throwing my locket in the lake, Erik had made a statement about our relationship and what a pile of ruins it had become. Destroying my iPod had not only completely decimated any positive feelings we had left for each other, but had also made it perfectly clear just how little he truly cared for me. In that moment, I was no longer a person in his eyes. I had become a possession that he was losing his hold on. Erik had not just done what he knew would hurt me most, but what would have hurt him the most. His actions made it clearer than ever…Erik knew he was hurting me, he simply didn't care.

Erik walked back into the house, leaving me alone on my knees. There were no words I could say in response to what he had just done. I had played his game and lost terribly. My biggest mistake hadn't been playing, but rather caring too much about the state of my opponent. I wanted to win, but with minimal casualties to the other side. Erik had no such reservations. Whether he had ever truly cared, I didn't know, but he had grown into the cold manipulative creature Adrien had warned me about. Adrien…he had tried to spare me the pain I was feeling, but I'd been too focused on the past…on what might have been…to listen. If only I had- No. I clenched my fists in determination. The past was behind me and there was nothing I could do to change it. My future, however, had possibilities. Though Erik had a valid point about my leaving alone, Adrien was another matter. Undoubtedly he was still furious from our fight, but I had to talk to him. He would listen to what I had to say even if I had to sit on his chest to keep him still. But I knew it would be the wisest course of action to wait, that way he could calm down a bit before I tried to talk to him.

After a few days of avoiding Erik, I walked purposefully toward Adrien's home, knowing the way by heart. As I neared the trap door that served as the main entrance, my pace slowed to one of uncertainty. Fear caused my chest to tighten. What if he didn't listen? What if he listened, but didn't forgive me? Worse still, what if he left me completely alone? Not being forgiven would be hard enough to bear, but losing Adrien even as someone to talk to…I didn't know if I could handle that. Misery balled up inside of me and made my stomach ache. I pressed a hidden button on the wall to keep the door open and slipped down into the hole that appeared in the floor. The covering slid back into place with another press of a button. My hand remained on it, twitching in its desire to open the door again as I weighed the pros and cons of coming back the next day.

'Maybe I haven't given him enough time." I thought, 'I don't know if I want to face him again when he's that angry…what would be the point? But he's probably already heading this way. An alarm will have warned him that someone's entered the safe way.'

I was still pondering which action would be best when I heard the scream. It was a clear cry of agony that echoed against the walls and made my skin crawl. Though I knew it was simply Adrien trying to trick a victim to his death, the sound still made me uneasy for reasons I couldn't identify. I walked cautiously forward toward the lake to find him on his knees, grabbing his side.

"It's me." I said flatly, wishing I could be as excited about the statement as I usually was.

He remained where he was. I sighed tiredly, taking his lack of response for stubborn ignorance of my presence.

"Please, I don't want to fight with you anymore. I just want to talk."

I held out my hands in a gesture of peace and offered what I knew was a pathetic attempt at a smile.

"Please, Adrien."

He turned his head partially at the sound of his name, and I immediately knew something was wrong. The look in his eyes was blank, as if he were trying to remember who I was. I stepped toward him, hand outstretched in concern. Suddenly a flash of recognition lit up the visible eye. My feet froze in place at the look of scorn he sent my way. Then his entire body convulsed, causing him to look away and emit another sharp cry of pain. I shook off my fear and went around to peer into his face. The breath was knocked from my lungs as I saw the reason for his pain. Though Adrien had appeared normal from where I had previously stood, he was far from being so. Half of his face still resembled Erik's, and his bones jutted out at strange angles underneath the cloak he wore. Something was preventing him from shifting all the way.

"What happened?" I asked as I put a hand on his shoulder.

"What does it look like?" he snapped through gritted teeth, violently pushing my hand away, "I tried to shift and couldn't. I'm stuck looking at this-this _face_!"

I winced as he hit the Erik-like side of his face, and he cringed in pain as he did so. It wasn't difficult to guess why he couldn't get his body to cooperate.

"You need to calm down." I said soothingly, "The reason you can't shift is because your body is fighting itself."

"I know that!" he barked.

The remark was immediately followed by an even more violent convulsion. Tears started to fall from my eyes as I realized that I was only making matters worse, and that there was little I could do to help. I moved him into my lap and gently stroked the good side of his face.

"I'm so sorry, Adrien." I said softly, "I swear, I never meant for any of this to happen…But I know it's still my fault. I should never have let myself get involved with you when I knew my feelings for Erik were still so strong. It was selfish, and I know it. But I _swear_, Adrien… I swear by the very air that I _breathe_ that I loved you. And I realize it means nothing now, but…I still _do_ love you."

He looked up at me in skepticism, then the cold fire behind his eyes dimmed as he saw something that threw him off guard. Perhaps it was regret, but more likely it was the honesty I was trying so hard to convey.

"Hate me if you must for my feelings, but relax. Just for a few minutes. _Please_, Adrien…please…"

I watched as he closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe. This was easier said than done, as his body was in hyper drive.

"Try to match my breathing." I said softly.

Soon his shuddering breaths coincided with mine, and his body began to slowly change. The first thing to shift was the appearance of his face and (presumably) the entire left side of his body. Then came the bones, which slid into their correct positions with a sickening grinding noise that caused me to cringe right along with him. After a few minutes he was himself again. I became concerned when he didn't open his eyes, but forced myself to wait.

"Say it again." he rasped.

"What?" I asked confusedly.

"You claim to still have feelings for me." he said as he slowly sat upright, "I want you to say it again, so I can look at your face when you do."

I opened my mouth, ready to say the words with all the passion I could muster. He opened his eyes and turned the full power of those wondrous green eyes upon me…and I couldn't. My throat swelled as my eyes slammed shut and my body started to shake with oncoming sobs. He wouldn't believe me. How could he, after I'd caused him so much pain? Regardless, I had to say it…just one last time where he could hear me.

"I love you, Adrien." I whispered.

A whisper was all I could manage, yet somehow he must have heard me. His strong arms pulled me to him, and I put my head on his chest and let my heart flow out through my eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry…" I gasped.

Adrien didn't say a word as he stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head. He simply let me cling to him, which was more than I had expected. At least if I had to say goodbye, I would get to do it in my own way. My heart clenched as he released a heavy sigh, ready for the worst.

"You told him, didn't you?" Adrien asked quietly.

I let out a strange mixture of a bitter laugh and a sob, and he pulled back to look at me questioningly. Giving him a miserable look, I told him the basics of what had happened, attempting to control my quavering voice as I did so.

"You didn't tell him that you love him?" Adrien said incredulously, "Don't you think that might have made a slight difference in the way things went?"

"No." I said in a distant tone of voice, "You were right, he wouldn't have cared anyway."

"Perhaps I exaggerated…you know him better than I."

The look in Adrien's eyes told me he didn't believe what he was saying, but I could also tell that for my sake, he almost wanted to.

"I can't do it anymore, Adrien." I said as the sobs started to well up within me once more, "That part of my heart may not change in its devotion, but I just can't allow myself to listen to it anymore. It's too broken…I'm too broken. He _broke_ me, Adrien…"

My frantic babblings died out as the sobs escaped. I put my hands over my face and fell into his chest, knowing that without his arms around me, I would fall. He held me tightly to him and rocked us from side to side in a slow and calming rhythm. Eventually the sobs subsided into occasional whimpers, though my body still quivered.

"Come with me now." he said softly.

The tone in his voice was odd. Before, he had always made the offer with a sense of urgency and frustration. Now it had turned into a tender plea, a desperate wish to take me away from the source of my pain. But something else changed as well. He made sure I could stay upright on my own, then reached into his pocket. The ring he pulled out was golden and a strange looking clear stone on it. Words so faded they were indecipherable were etched into the band. He placed it in my hand and gently closed my fingers around it.

"I know it's not a diamond, in fact I'm not sure what type of stone it is, but this ring has been with me for as long as I can remember. Aside from a few sets of clothing, it's the only thing I own. I-I was going to wait until we had settled somewhere away from here to ask. At least that way I would have been able to earn some money before I offered you a new life. Now I have nothing to offer…Nothing except this ring and a promise."

He took my face in his hands and brushed my cheeks with his thumbs. The look in his eyes was one of frail hope held in place by a determination to say what he'd apparently been waiting almost a year to say.

"I promise you that if you say you'll come with me, no matter what happens, I will protect you. No matter what happens…_I will never let you break_."

I gasped at these words, shocked to find that I believed him. Slowly I opened my hand to peer at the ring. I had been waiting for years for this offer, yet it came from a source I had not expected. Covering the shredded portion of my heart with a blanket in my mind, I forced myself to move past the heartache and accept the possibility of happiness. I slid the ring onto my finger and kissed Adrien all in one swift motion. He stiffened in surprise, and then held me closer to him.

"Take me. Marry me. I don't care where we go or what we don't have as long as you're there. Marry me…" I said breathlessly.

His eyes flooded with warmth and he smiled before pressing his lips firmly to mine. I responded in kind, no longer clinging to him in sorrow but instead holding on firmly in triumph. Adrien was mine and nothing could tear us apart. He was _mine_! Never had I felt such a surge of joy. More than anything, what I felt radiating between us was hope. His confidence in our future fed that hope until I could almost sense it radiating between us. I felt myself smile for the first time in a long while, and curled up in Adrien's arms, finally at peace with whatever the future might bring.


	16. Divergence

I packed up the few belongings I'd brought with me. It was a five-minute job at most, but I took my time and reflected on the choice that I had just made. Would I regret it? No. Adrien was too dear to me for regret to be an issue. Regardless of this fact, there would always be one person who would try to turn my happiness into remorse and sadness. Knowing this, I had my barriers up and my emotions steady when Erik walked into the room.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a low tone.

"Simple," I replied calmly, "I'm leaving."

"And where, may I ask, do you imagine that you'll go? Your French is far from being adequate enough to get you anywhere, and living alone…well, the thought is quite absurd."

"Who said I was going alone?" I asked, casually flipping my hand.

His eyes were drawn to the ring on my hand, as was my intention. Erik seized my wrist and held it in front of his face. The expression he wore as he stared at the gem was one of confusion and disbelief, then fury when he understood.

"How? You fought…"

"And now we're engaged. There _is_ such a thing as forgiveness, Erik. Or have you forgotten all the times I've offered that to you?"

He did a double take, then tightened his grip on my wrist.

"You're not leaving. I forbid it."

"You don't have that kind of power over me." I growled.

Erik pinned me up against the wall with a roar, his breathing fast and ragged in his rage. I cried out in surprise. Though I had expected him to be angry, Erik had never threatened to hurt me like he was at that moment. He had turned into a complete stranger…one whom I was becoming afraid of. As soon as Erik attacked, he was pulled away.

"Don't you _dare_ hurt her!" Adrien spat as he grabbed Erik by the shirt.

The two men wrestled around with each other for a few minutes. I stared at the scene openmouthed. Erik wasn't the kind to engage in physical combat often (other than the occasional use of his lasso), but the few times I had seen him do so, it had been for me. This was different. Instead of fighting for my protection or in retaliation for wrongs committed against me, he was struggling to keep me his prisoner. It was pathetic and thoroughly disgusted me.

"Enough!" I yelled over the clamor.

Both men stopped and turned toward me with looks of surprise written on their faces. I walked over and shoved Erik so that he stumbled backward a few steps, then took Adrien's hand and stormed toward the door with my belongings.

"You won't keep her for long, Saulnier." Erik seethed, "She belongs to me."

I froze and then slowly turned toward him, all sympathy gone. Then I looked to where I knew his sunken eyes were located and said the words I'd been wanting to say for a very long time.

"The sad thing is, Erik…I used to be."

He stood and watched as we walked away, simply staring. Adrien put his arm around my shoulder and led me away. I didn't bother to look back even once.

We traveled for over a week, rarely stopping for much more than to camp alongside the road each night. One evening, after helping me off of the horse, Adrien went about his usual job of collecting wood for a fire. I unloaded the few things we had while I waited for him to return, a slight frown coming over my face as I saw how truly little was there. I didn't care about luxuries, but we were going without a lot of essentials as well. He came back after a while with an armful of sticks and branches. There wasn't much else to do, so I simply curled up in a ball on my side and stared off into the distance as he built the fire, letting my mind drift into nothingness.

I came out of my trance a while later and watched as Adrien poked at the embers of our small campfire. He looked at me briefly before returning his attention to the stick he held, looking at it as if what he was doing required the utmost concentration.

"Do you want to go back?" he said in a raspy voice.

"Mm.", I mumbled noncommittally, not really processing what he had asked and waiting for whatever else he might say.

He waited a moment, and then continued in a very tired and subdued tone that betrayed none of the emotions he felt within.

"You haven't spoken a word since we left…and you've seemed distant, as if you're mind is elsewhere. If you don't wish to be here, I-I would understand. This can't be the sort of life you wanted when you thought of freedom…or marriage."

The underlying fragility in his voice broke through the wall I had unknowingly erected and shocked me back into reality. Looking back, I realized that he had been trying to reach out to me for days. I saw the stricken look on his face when he realized that he didn't have enough money for both a hotel room and a marriage ceremony. He was using every bit of the money he had saved up to make sure that I at least had a decent ceremony. Yet money was still tight, as we had already purchased the horse and a few days' worth of food (which was nearly gone). Before we left, I had mentioned that I had quite a bit of money that I could use, but Adrien wouldn't hear of it, so I simply didn't bring it up again…not that I'd thought to do so. He'd said we would press onward until I thought we were far enough away from Erik to build a new life. It was my decision to make. No matter how far we went in those first days, it never seemed to be far enough. I always felt as if his shadow were still looming over me, waiting to snatch me up and take me somewhere I could never be found. I would be losing my patience if I were Adrien. How was he holding up under such insane conditions? It was time I came out of my senseless dreamlike state and began caring for my fiancé. The coins in my purse were still plentiful, so I promised myself that the next town we reached would be the one where I said 'stop'.

Adrien sighed as he stood. It was so saturated with unspoken concerns that it sounded like he was going to exhale his soul. We were in this together, but I had unwittingly left him alone. Throwing the stick into the dying flames, he removed his coat and gently covered me with it. Unable to see my partially opened eyes in the darkness, he had obviously taken my long silence for slumber. Instead of falling asleep as I usually did, I watched the dark shape I knew to be Adrien. To my surprise and dismay, he didn't lie down and go to sleep as I thought he would, but rather leaned up against a tree trunk and surveyed the area, watching for any signs of danger. There was no doubt in my mind that this is what he had been doing for the past week and a half. I wondered with shame what other normal functions he had been denying himself in order to keep me safe and happy.

Keeping his cloak around my shoulders, I stood up slowly.

"Adrien?" I called softly.

He turned his head in surprise and unfolded his arms.

"Yes?" he replied.

"Could we…talk?"

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as I started walking toward him. I smiled casually at him as I approached, trying to wipe away the fears I knew were running thorough his mind.

"Is…something wrong?" he asked.

His apprehensiveness hurt, but I couldn't blame him. Instead of answering, I simply sat on the ground beside him and patted a spot with my hand.

"Sit." I said lightly.

Light from the fire illuminated his face as he joined me on the ground, revealing shadows beneath his eyes that I hadn't seen before. His clothing was noticeably looser too, causing my easy grin to switch to a frown.

"What is it?" he asked, the fear rising to the surface of his eyes.

"How long has it been since you've eaten?"

His shoulders dropped in relief and he shrugged.

"Recently."

"_How_ recently? Our definitions of 'recent' are probably very different."

"I'm fine, Anisette, I assure you."

"That's not what I asked. Now tell me, how long has it been since you last had food?"

"I had an apple."

"When?"

He fell silent and looked away, pretending to stare at something in the darkness around us.

"Adrien. I asked you a question. _When_ did you eat the apple?"

"Yesterday." he muttered.

My jaw dropped and I felt a pang in my chest. He had been traveling all day with nothing to sustain him, yet I distinctly remembered coming out of my daze to eat several times. Leaning forward, I grabbed the bag that held food and dug out fair helpings of bread, cheese, and water.

"Eat." I said sternly.

He stared at me and then at the food as if he were confused as to what he should do with it. More likely it had to do with my sudden return to the world of the living. I broke off a piece of bread and held it in my other hand.

"Adrien Saulnier, don't make me force feed this to you. And don't make the mistake of thinking that I won't either, because I promise you that I will. Lord knows how little you've eaten the past week…"

A sad look came over him as he took the food and started to slowly stick it in his mouth, acting as if he had already stuffed himself silly and was being forced to eat even more. Something was seriously wrong with his appetite, and I could think of many different things that it could have been.

"Stop." I said with a sigh, and placed my hands on his.

He stared at me helplessly, his tired brain trying to figure out what it was that I wanted from him. I placed a comforting hand on his cheek and tried to strengthen him with determination from my eyes.

"We're going to be fine, Adrien. I know I've been absolutely horrid these past few days, and for that I'm terribly sorry, but I promise you that we'll be all right."

"I'm simply glad that you're well. I was getting worried…"

"Me? I'm not the one who hasn't been eating or sleeping. All that was wrong with me was the need for a swift kick in the pants. Anyway, you have enough on your mind. I know you're concerned with money and supplies, but you needn't be."

"Anisette, we barely have enough food to make it through tomorrow, and there aren't enough funds to grant us another market run for a while."

"Correction. There aren't enough of your funds. We have more than enough, sweetheart, but it's not going to come from your pocket this time. I know you don't want to let me pay for anything, but this is ridiculous."

"I should be able to provide for you." he said, turning his face away in shame, "How can I ever be a proper husband if I can't even feed you?"

Setting the food down, I gently turned his head back toward me, brushing aside a stray lock of his hair as I did so.

"You're going to be a wonderful husband." I reassured him softly, "Things like that aren't dependent on money, but on love and respect, both of which you've given to me freely. We're going to be a family, Adrien. That means sharing joys _and_ burdens. As husband and wife, we will be a team, and that means working together. If you try taking on all the responsibility for yourself, you'll end up shutting me out. I don't know if I can take that."

Tears started to form in my eyes, but stopped as he reached up, cupped my face in his hands, and rested his forehead on mine.

"No matter how bad things may get, I swear that I will never ignore you."

He kissed my forehead, then leaned down until he was right beside my ear.

"How can one ignore his own heart?" he whispered.

I pulled back and kissed him gently on the lips, wrapping my arms around him. If Erik was the disease that plagued me, then Adrien was the cure. My trancelike state had been due to wishing for things that could not be. I only wanted my relationship with Erik to have ended on a better note, but the illusion of forgiveness was all that I could offer. Erik could think I had forgiven him, and I…I could pretend that my heart wouldn't continue to bleed long after leaving him behind. It was a lie that had to be believed in…for everyone's sake.

After he had eaten the food I'd set aside for him, Adrien sat with his back against the tree, his eyes slowly drooping shut from exhaustion. I cuddled up against his side with a smile as he put an arm around me. Soon we would be together forever…soon we would be one. And yet…I still couldn't help but wish for more. I didn't want Erik back in my life, but neither did I want things to end like they had. Still, it couldn't be helped. I would never see him again, and that was probably-no, definitely-for the best. How he loved to prove me wrong.

I awoke in the darkness that had once been so familiar to me and groaned knowingly.

"You couldn't possibly have thought it would be that easy." Erik said.

"What do you want, Erik?" I asked wearily.

"Ha! Now you ask? You didn't ask before. Perhaps spending time on the road with Saulnier has caused you to have second thoughts, yes?"

The look that his golden eyes reflected in that moment caused my blood to run cold. Reason had left them and an odd sort of madness had replaced it. His actions toward me made sense now, as they would have been logical to someone half-crazed in his grief. Before, I had mistaken this insanity for calculated cruelty, but now I could see signs of it in every aspect of his appearance. Erik was slipping. At any other time, I would have been concerned, but my feelings for Erik had gone sour. Concern had turned into smugness. If anything, he deserved a little misery.

"Never. Why can't you just leave us alone?" I spat angrily, "If you truly hate me as you say that you do, then you should be glad to see me go!"

"No. With Saulnier you would be happy. Without me you would be happy, which is unacceptable. You belong to me. I will _never_ let you go."

My jaw dropped open as he turned his back and walked away. I hadn't realized it before, but now I knew the full truth. Erik might have let me walk out of his lair unscathed, but now he would haunt me in my dreams for the rest of my life as punishment for betraying him. My knees gave out and I sank to the floor, sobbing. All I wanted was to have a normal life with someone who loved me. At one time, I thought that someone would be Erik, but I'd found out that my dreams were just that…fantasies never to be realized. I didn't even want that life anymore. Erik wasn't the man I'd thought him to be. I'd saved the life of the Phantom, but my beloved Erik had died long ago. My thoughts traveled to what I'd said to him earlier. If I'd never found the diary, then he would have died like he was supposed to…he never would have become the bitter wretch he was now.

"Stop crying! Why is that your reaction to everything? Why can't you ever just-"

He paused in midsentence, and I looked up to see him frowning at a glowing line of…something. I wiped my eyes and stared at it for a moment. A tear fell from my cheek and I gasped when I saw it begin to glow and move toward the line. The strange string of what I now knew to be tears came together to form a small puddle, glowing brightly amidst the empty darkness. Erik looked at me and then at the puddle. I shrugged and turned my gaze away, not having forgotten the reason for my tears. He and I both approached the strange sight, curious as to what it could mean yet cautious due to the misadventures we'd had here in the past. Ever the more daring one, I prodded the liquid curiously with my foot. A scream of agony caused me to cover my ears in pain. I looked up to see that the puddle was surging upward into a terrifying wave. Once it had reached its height, it came crashing down around me. To my surprise, the water rushed around me, surging forward with dreadful purpose toward a target I couldn't see.

I shielded my eyes against the mist and reached for Erik in desperation. He wasn't there. The water passed and I looked around, panicking in spite of myself. It was as I had feared. The wave had passed me and gone to Erik, engulfing him. What was strange was that it didn't continue to rage on its path, but rather created a slowly swirling sphere of water around him. Not knowing whether or not the water was hostile, I ran and dove through it to the empty space where Erik was standing. His eyes darted to me for a moment before returning to the water around us.

"What is this?" he asked in a dark tone, "What have you done?"

"Me? I didn't do anything, you idiot! I have no idea what's going on or how to get out of here."

"Splendid. Why is it that every time we come here, you end up nearly getting the both of us killed?"

I turned toward him in fury.

"How dare you blame me for this! If our current predicament is anyone's fault, it's yours for refusing to let me get on with my life!"

"Why should I take the blame? The choice to come here was your own, and I refuse to be held responsible for any expectations that were not met upon your arrival. I regret nothing!"

I started to retaliate, but immediately stopped at a crunching sound. Erik's eyes went wide in surprise, and he grunted, mouth slowly moving up and down as if trying in vain to speak again. I confusedly looked down and saw that a spike of ice had penetrated his body. My mouth opened in a silent scream. The water around us seemed to come alive, flashing a million scenes at once that were somehow also perceived in one confusing moment. Every scene had one thing in common-tears. Specifically, my tears. Some unknown force had decided that there were several things that Erik should regret, or at the very least be appreciative of. At the very end was the scene that I had once viewed in the mirror…that of our life together. As soon as the Erik in the picture touched my double, the vision shattered. Erik and I both jumped in shock as shards of ice flew in our direction. I shielded myself with my arms, but lowered them when nothing hit me. Erik, however, had not been so fortunate. A spike had pierced him through the chest, hitting where I imagined his heart would be.

His hands fumbled at the large protrusion as he gasped for air. I could only watch helplessly, my hands over my mouth in horror. Erik was on his hands and knees trying to stop the blood that was pouring from his chest. Upon closer inspection, I saw that the ice spike had vanished, leaving the wound open. I approached him slowly, my legs sluggish with shock.

"Erik…?" I questioned softly.

He looked up at me pleadingly, then his head snapped sharply to my right. A small part of the water was once again hardening into ice and sharpening itself to a point. Erik watched helplessly, knowing what would follow. The first ice spike had somehow missed his heart, so the second one was meant to finish the job. I tried to intersect it, but stumbled and fell at the last minute. I heard the ice strike home, and a white light flashed, blinding me. When my eyesight returned, the blackness around us had been replaced by light.

"I don't understand."

Erik's voice caused me to jump in shock. I looked to find him standing in front of me with not a mark on him, an amazed look on his face.

"I-I tried to stop it, but I tripped." I said, "How could it possibly have missed you?"

"It didn't." he said solemnly, "I felt it pierce my flesh. Also…You didn't trip. I pushed you out of the way."

I stared at him, unable to comprehend the words he had just spoken. The first part could simply have been a fluke of the place we were in. If healing pools existed, then why not vanishing wounds? But the second part…

"Why would you do that?" I asked incredulously.

"The ice would have killed you. Do you really think I could let that happen? I could never lose you like that. The real question is…why did you try to save me? I was under the impression that you hate me. Why save the life of someone you hate?"

His voice was strange at the end, full of emotions I couldn't identify.

"You really are an idiot." I said with a sigh, "After all this time, you never figured it out for yourself? I wouldn't-couldn't- let you die in front of me. Though my feelings are quite bitter toward you now…I used to _love_ you, Erik. I always have…until recently."

Pity and frustration were the only things that prevented me from laughing as his jaw dropped open in shock. It was clear that he truly was clueless. Then, unexpectedly, understanding filled his eyes. The water around us shifted at that moment, creating a wall between us. It seemed as though the water was a living representation of our fate. We would never be able to escape the fact that our lives were intertwined, yet there would always be a wall separating us. I had tried to save Erik, but he had prevented me from doing so through his own stubbornness. We would never be together. It simply could not be. As soon as I accepted this, one final scene played out before our eyes. It was the memory we both had been denied…the one concerning our other selves. Tears streamed down my face, and a cry of despair burst forth from Erik's lips. It was almost a curse…remembering what could have been when it was far too late to pursue it.

When the scene was over, the water dropped and then vanished completely. I looked reluctantly up into Erik's eyes. He was crying as well.

"It-it was the contraption, wasn't it?" he asked, voice breaking, "You left because I smashed the portable orchestra."

I sighed and rolled my eyes.

"No, Erik. That's actually not why I left, though that certainly shoved me halfway out the door."

"What then? Please…I need to know. Not that you don't have a thousand reasons to leave, but…What made your decision final?"

"It happened right before I had planned to leave with Adrien." I started quietly, "I'd forgotten that I'd put the diary underneath the mattress, so I went looking for it. When I couldn't find it, I thought perhaps you'd taken it to prevent me from ever communicating with my friends. Don't look at me like that, you know it's a reasonable question. Well, I ended up looking in your room for the blasted thing…and I opened the desk drawer."

A look of horror came over his face as he went pale.

"You couldn't have. It-it was locked…"

"Indeed it was. Fortunately, you had already tossed my two most important possessions into the lake, so I didn't especially care about a little damaged property on your part. You never go in there anymore anyway, so you didn't notice the broken lock. I didn't find the diary, of course, but I did find something else. I found all of letters and notes that I had sent to you. Out of curiosity, I picked them up. Not only were they all present and accounted for, but they had all been read as well. I know this because I put a piece of tape on most of them to act as a seal. All the pieces of tape had been broken. Now…Maybe I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions, but I'm pretty sure I know the answer to the question I'm about to ask. Erik, did you just read those letters after Christine left?"

A look of hope briefly entered his eyes, only to be crushed.

"I-I…No. No, I did not."

I looked at him for a moment before stepping closer, trying to see the true intent hidden behind those gold orbs of his.

"You could have said yes, you know. Why didn't you?"

Erik looked at me tiredly, defeat written all over his features.

"No, Anisette. I couldn't lie to you. Not now. Even if I had successfully fooled you, it would not erase all of the other wrongs I have done you. And…you may hate me for saying this…and I know it won't mean much…but…_I'm sorry_…"

He said the last words softly and with all the reverence he could muster, lowering his head as he did so. As quickly as I could, I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around him and putting my head on his chest.

"Finally." I said through oncoming tears, "Finally you see sense. You were so…_insane _for a while. Nothing I said seemed to get through to you."

"Can you ever forgive me?" he begged softly.

I forced myself to step back, giving him a sad look.

"Yes, I do. I forgive you Erik, but…we can never be what we once were. I don't know if I can ever trust you again, and the scars from this mess are very deep. I forgive you, but I'm still leaving. I can't be around you and still be able to heal from this. Every time I see you, I find myself wishing for your affections. That can't be. I love Adrien, and he would see that my feelings for you were ripping me apart. That might cause him to leave, and I just can't take that. I need some control over my life, control over who stays in it. It's not easy for me to say it, Erik, but…this is goodbye. Forever."

A sob escaped him and he started to reach for me before closing that hand and bringing it to his side.

"You-you are merciful, Anisette…as always. I shall, of course, honor your wishes. I will not follow you or ask after you. The rest of your life can be lived in peace. I am glad that we are not parting enemies. After all I've done…it's more than I deserve. Thank you."

"Don't." I said softly, causing him to look up in confusion, "Don't thank me for something we both know is going to cause us pain. It-It's ridiculous. But…thank you, Erik, both for your promise and for letting me have true peace. I could never have been happy knowing we would always be fighting with each other. Thank you."

I turned to go, but paused after a few steps. It wasn't enough.

"Erik?" I called, turning toward him.

He cringed and looked at me, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for me to profess my hate for him. As if that could ever happen with him looking like a lost puppy. I was going to miss him so very much…

"Could I see you just one more time before the wedding? I know it's insane of me to ask, but…please? We're about to enter this little village…it's…"

I searched for the words to describe where I was, but none were needed.

"I know where you are, Anisette." he said in a soft and steady voice, "I've always known. Have you forgotten that I have eyes everywhere? But no matter…I shall try to do as you ask. You've traveled further than you think. Even using the tunnels, it will take me a few days to reach you. But at your request…I shall try."

I gave him a small and painful smile as I started to wake, wondering if he would truly be able to travel the distance as quickly as he claimed. There was the fact that he had shortcuts everywhere, and also the absence of sleep on his part. Adrien and I would be taking a few days of rest before the wedding as well. I determined that it might be possible…if Erik truly wanted to come. Would it have been easier for us if I had just said goodbye in the dream and left it at that? Perhaps it was cruel of me to ask him to travel all that way just to be reminded that he would never see or hear from me again…but I just couldn't stand not having one last chance to see him. Adrien would be livid, of that I was certain. I contemplated not telling him, but realized that this would only make matters worse. The headache I woke up with pounded my heartbeat through my ears. It was going to be a very long day.


	17. Shattered Dreams and Waking Nightmares

"It's time, Anisette." Adrien said softly, taking my arm as he did so.

"I know." I replied with a small smile, "Thank you for being so patient, love."

"I only wish I could strangle him. He never had any intention of coming, he just-"

"Don't. Please, Adrien. Erik and I parted on good terms, there's no need for that to change. He said he would try his best…but it was a very long way to travel in such a short amount of time."

"I don't understand how you can still be so tolerant and forgiving of him, but if it makes you happy to think these things, then I shall oblige."

I kissed his cheek with a smile. My poor Adrien put up with so much for my sake.

"Go ahead. I'll get into my dress and meet you in a little while."

He looked back at me worriedly, then slowly withdrew from the room. My calm demeanor vanished as soon as the door clicked shut. Sweat threatened to drip from my palms and my limbs shook with fear. It wasn't the wedding itself that I dreaded, but rather the time that came beforehand. I was so close to achieving my dreams. Surely I wouldn't be allowed to fulfill them? Christine had been this close, only to have everything ripped out from under her in that terrible, final moment. The police had found no trace of the mysterious assassin. What had his motives been? Perhaps no one was allowed a happy ending in this twisted version of history. If that was true, then I was the person truly responsible for Christine's untimely death. The thought wasn't a new one. I had been blaming myself for her and Raoul's deaths long before Erik's accusation.

I stared at my wedding dress, longing for Christine or one of my friends back home to be here to help. Adrien and Erik were the only ones I had left. For reasons I couldn't understand, no word had come from back home since that first and only communication. I'd not tried to contact them due to the whole 'it only works when you sense that it will' issue. They hadn't abandoned me, of that I was certain, but I was still lonely without them. Would I see them again if I died here? It was much more likely that I would just die. The time that Adrien had killed me I had distinctly felt myself slipping from the world, not just the time period. My throat tightened and tears slipped slowly from my eyes as I looked at myself in the mirror. There was so much happiness that could yet be gained from life…

"I don't want to die." I whispered shakily.

"You don't have to." a voice replied calmly.

I opened my mouth to scream, but was quickly silenced by a cold harsh hand.

"No need for that. I'm not going to hurt you, little lovely. My, my…you would look absolutely angelic in that dress."

The stranger laughed at a joke I hadn't caught, and the sound made me shiver. It was worse than hearing fingernails on a chalkboard. Something about this man just seemed _wrong_, as if my very cells were rebuking his touch.

"As I was saying, there's no need for you to perish. All you have to do is sit quiet and still like a good girl while my companion deals with your soon-to-be-late fiancé."

My body went rigid with fear.

'Oh, Lord, please no.' I thought frantically, 'Not Adrien. Kill me, but don't make me go through this. Please no...'

"Aww, come now, dearie. Tears aren't going to help anything. It'll all be over soon, you'll see."

Anger flared up within me. If it had to end, then it was not going to end like this. I freed my mouth from his hand and stood, grabbing the dagger that I had hidden earlier. Christine may have been caught unarmed, but I certainly was not going down without a fight.

"It'll be over when you're both dead, you scum." I growled.

He was stronger than I was…much stronger. At first I thought that this would be my undoing. The assassin had me against the wall and almost had my arms pinned.

"Well aren't you the little nuisance!" he grunted, "If I'd known how much trouble you'd be, I'd have killed you and your friends when I had the chance."

I frowned at him, not having the slightest clue what he meant.

"Oh, you haven't figured it out by now?" he asked tauntingly, "Well then perhaps this will clear things up for you."

I looked on in fascination while his pupils began to dilate and consume the rest of his eyes. When they had filled out completely, I felt like I was falling into them, plummeting into a pit of cold emptiness. Then the fire appeared. In each of his eyes there existed a sort of flame that seemed to feed on light and warmth rather than produce it. My heart wrenched within my chest as I remembered what Christine had said…what I had taken for the mad babblings of a dying woman.

"You killed her." I accused softly.

His only response was the widening of his smile. It was enough. This man, if I could even call him that, may have been determined to kill Adrien, but I was even more determined that my love stay alive. With a few quick shifts of my body weight and some careful footing, I was able to switch our positions. The blade sank into him much more smoothly than I had expected, so I pushed it in up to the hilt. His eyes returned to normal and looked down at the weapon in surprise.

"That's for my friends, Christine and Raoul. Now go burn in Hell." I spat, and twisted the dagger.

There was a sickening crunch as I turned it, and the man went limp with a grunt. I cringed at the sound and stepped back. The corpse fell to the ground, hidden in the shadows. I backed into the moonlight and looked away. Never before had I been forced to take a life, and even this man's death acted as a black mark I never thought I'd bear. I moved quickly from the room. Adrien was in danger, and it felt like my feet couldn't run swiftly enough toward his room.

"Adrien!" I cried in desperation as I flew around a corner.

I let out a scream as strong arms grabbed me and held me in place.

"Anisette, stop screaming love, it's only me." Adrien said in a calming tone.

He took my face in his hands and wiped away the tears of relief that had begun streaming down my cheeks.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly, kissing my forehead as he did so.

I nodded shakily and placed my hands over his.

"Yes. I was attacked, but I was also armed at the time. And you? There was supposed to be another man coming to kill you. Did he show up yet?"

Adrien chuckled, causing me to look at him in confusion.

"He certainly did. I would have been caught completely by surprise if I hadn't been warned a few moments in advance…."

My uncomprehending frown deepened at his words.

"Someone made it to you before the assassin? But who could have possibly-"

Everything around me faded as my focus zoomed in on a silent figure in the shadows. I wouldn't have seen him at all had he not shifted slightly, which I guessed was merely his way of being noticed without intruding.

"Erik... I was beginning to think you weren't coming. Now I have one more reason to be glad that you did. Thank you."

He acknowledged my awkward thanks by bowing his head. Part of me wanted to rush over and express my gratefulness with a hug, but Adrien's hands were resting lovingly on my shoulders, reminding me how careful I needed to be with my actions. Mixed signals could not be sent this late in the game. I had made the right choice and it was final, regardless of whether or not I was married yet. Still, I needed to talk with Erik one more time.

"Give us a few minutes, would you, love?" I asked Adrien with a smile.

He nodded before turning to go, but there was worry lurking behind his eyes. I grabbed his hand and pulled him back into a passionate kiss. Though Erik would never be able to earn Adrien's trust, I knew I had it completely.

"See you in a bit." I assured him with a smile.

Erik looked at me calmly as I approached, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Perhaps you would like to clean up a bit first…?"

I paused and slowly looked down at my dress. It was splattered with blood, and my hands were nearly covered in it. I backed away and hurried back into my room in embarrassment. Why hadn't Adrien said anything? I felt exposed at first, but that feeling turned to fragility and slight panic as I tried to wash the blood off of my hands. No matter how hard I scrubbed at it, the stains refused to yield. I closed my eyes to hold back panicked sobs. The dead man's face floated behind my eyelids, filled with shock and pain that I had caused.

"Anisette?"

I jumped in shock at the unexpected sound.

"Would you like me to get Adrien?" he asked quietly.

My head snapped toward him in horror.

"No! No, Erik, he can't see me like this. He wouldn't understand! I could never explain it to him…"

He looked at me confusedly, but didn't move from his position in the doorway.

"Explain what, Anisette? You already informed him of the attack, and you killed the man in your own defense. What more is there to explain?"

I looked up until I finally met his gaze, my own eyes filled with fear.

"I liked it." I said softly, and looked away from him again in shame, "I felt guilt after killing the man, but I realize now that it was forced. I enjoyed killing him, Erik, and now I want to forget it ever happened, erase the blood like he was a mannequin instead of a human being…Like his life never mattered. I-I don't know how to handle that."

The look on his face was one of shock and amazement. Tears of embarrassment and panic ran faster down my cheeks. I looked up at him once again.

"Help me…please..."

Erik closed the door behind him then strode over to where I was standing and took my shaking hands gently in his own.

"This will help remove the stains." he said as he took a small container from his pocket.

We sat in complete silence as he massaged a strange cream into my skin. It tingled slightly, but did not hurt.

"Is it always like that?" I asked him

He looked up from his work for only a moment to glance at me.

"What do you mean?"

"When I killed that man," I started hesitantly, "it was like a weight was lifted from me. I could take all of the pain, hurt, sadness, everything, and put it all into the tip of the blade. When it pierced his flesh, I felt a strange sense of satisfaction and peace. I couldn't blame him for everything that has happened in my life, but I could certainly transfer my anger and frustration. Though I'm not naïve enough to think that it fixes anything permanently, being able to feel the heat of his life force on my skin and knowing I had caused it to flow…for a moment it was better. Does it always feel so beautiful and freeing when you take a life?"

Erik frowned, and I was afraid that I had overstepped my bounds and upset him. That was the last thing that I had wanted to do.

"No." he answered solemnly, "What you did was more than mere murder. You were experiencing the rush of revenge. He took the lives of those who were dear to you and threatened to do so again. Regardless of what he said, you would most likely have been killed as well if you had cooperated. What you did was necessary. Though it's true that murders can have the same relieving effect, it wears off after a while. Then you have guilt on top of everything else. It doesn't matter if the person deserved to die or not. The result is the same. In the end…you just feel even more bitter and empty than before. You know this. You always have. I learned it the hard way, Anisette, because I did not listen to your warning. Somehow, you've always known the right thing to do when it came to important matters in life. That hasn't changed, and I respect both you and your decisions because of it."

He dipped my hands in the water. I knew he was not longer talking about murder, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything. He respected my choice to marry Adrien and leave him behind. It was good to hear him say it once more, though the thought of never seeing Erik again after that night…never again feeling his hands touching mine… it saddened me greatly. After some slight rubbing, he dried them off on his shirt, causing me to give him an odd look. Why would you willingly rub blood onto your shirt?

"What are you doing? Now you've got blood all over you." I said in surprise.

"There will be likely be more in a few moments." he said as he walked to where the assassin's body was lying.

Erik picked up the body like an expert and started toward the window. The dagger shifted in the dead man's chest, causing a small stream of blood to flow down Erik's back as he opened the window. I shivered at the sight but couldn't turn away.

"You don't have to do that." I told him hurriedly, "If someone catches you with the body…"

He turned partially toward me and looked me square in the eyes.

"So much of the pain you bear is due to my reckless stupidity. If you will not let me bleed for you, then the least I can do is lighten your burden. You've done the same for me more times than I can count. I've done the opposite of returning the favor. This is my last chance to do something for the one person who has never given up on me. If you think I'm simply going to let this pass me by, then you are obviously still in shock. This will give you a chance to change your clothing as well. I'll return shortly."

With that, he vaulted out the window and into the night, leaving me with my thoughts. It seemed as though Erik truly had returned to the person I had once known. Either that, or he was putting on some sort of act to get me to trust him again. I couldn't think of any way that such behavior would benefit him now. He knew I was leaving and never coming back, so any attempt to become closer to me could only end in heartache for him. Knowing this made me happy, but it also caused my sadness to deepen further. Leaving would have been so much easier to do if he were still acting like a complete jerk.

I started to remove my dress, but paused.

"Well isn't this going to be wonderfully awkward…" I grumbled to myself.

I needed to change out of my bloodstained clothing. The only garment I had with me was my wedding dress. To wear it when saying my goodbyes to Erik would be like a slap in the face, but I had no other choice. Keeping the dress on that I wore at that moment would leave me no time to change. I planned to say goodbye to Erik and go straight into Adrien's waiting arms. That was the only way that I would be able to keep from crumpling to the floor and sobbing. So, knowing that it would bring about large waves of awkwardness, I freshened up and slipped into the dress. The design was fairly simple, but fit my figure nicely. Lace around the neck and on the sleeves added a delicate look to it. I walked over to the mirror and looked at myself. Something just seemed off, but I couldn't for the life of me determine what it was.

"Anisette."

For the first time, I noticed Erik's reflection in the mirror. I wondered exactly how long he'd been standing there, but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt for my own peace of mind.

"Ah, you're back. Thanks for cleaning up my mess. I truly do appreciate it. And I'm sorry about…this." I said, motioning to my dress, "I swear I'm not trying to be insensitive, this is just the only change of clothes that I had."

"My dear, we both know I gave up any and all right to protest your actions long before tonight. Even if that were untrue, I am not offended in the least. You look quite lovely."

"Thank you." I replied with a small smile, still trying to determine what was off about my appearance.

I gave up on the mirror and turned to face him. He was standing patiently with his hands clasped behind his back, simply watching me. I felt his eyes drinking in my every feature. Christine had been subject to this stare many times, but I had only felt it once or twice. This would be the last time he set eyes on me. Did he truly want to remember that badly? Was he making sure that he could close his eyes and conjure up my face with flawless accuracy? Was he aware that I was doing the exact same thing? I had already accomplished the feat of completely memorizing Erik's every feature more times than I could count, but in my desperation I couldn't help but do it one last time. His eyes remained on me as I walked over and removed his mask.

"I take it that this is to be our final goodbye, then?" he asked quietly.

"Yes. A part of me truly wishes it wasn't, but…Adrien deserves to have all of me. I can't give him that if you're around. I would always be thinking of what we once had, and it would inevitably show. You _both_ deserve better than that."

"You don't have to explain, Anisette. I understand. And I once again give you my word that I go in peace. To you, it shall be as if I never existed."

He turned to leave and I grabbed his arm.

"No, Erik." I said quietly, stroking his cheek with my hand, "Never that. I can't forget you, and I don't want to. I should at least be grateful that you brought me to this century. I never would have met Adrien otherwise. But there's something else as well. Though you've hurt me more deeply than I ever would have imagined, that I cannot deny, the times you brought me joy have been worth the pain. No matter what I've said in the past, Erik…I will never regret falling in love with you."

At that, I realized what was wrong with my appearance. I smiled to myself and took the pins out of my hair. Never again would I wear it up simply to forget what Erik and I once had with one another. Did it hurt? Yes, but I would remember it nonetheless. Tears welled up in my eyes but did not fall as I slowly reached up and kissed him softly on the cheek. He didn't move, but neither did he stiffen. It was more as if he didn't react to my touch at all. I smiled sadly as I pulled back. Whatever he was feeling was hidden from me, and I knew he was doing it for my sake. I withdrew from the room without another word and closed the door behind me. As soon as it latched, I heard him sink to the ground and begin to sob quietly.

"Goodbye, Erik." I breathed.

I practically ran to where Adrien was waiting, only slowing down once I was in his line of sight. The wedding went by slowly, each second pounding the truth of what I had just done into my mind. Finally the service was over and it was time for the kiss. Adrien took my face in his hands and brushed my cheeks with his thumbs, looking at me knowingly. I did my best to smile at him, but my heart was breaking inside of me. His lips landed gently upon mine. I released a flow of tears that hurt like fire, but smiled through them. I was still aching over the loss of Erik, but now hope and love flared up to warm my shaking limbs.

"I love you, Adrien."

"I know." he replied with a tender smile.

Those were the best words he could have said.

I inhaled sharply and gripped the arm of my chair in surprise. Vin was acting up more and more lately. Not that I minded.

"Easy does it, little one." I cooed to my round stomach, "Daddy should be home any day now."

I frowned. In truth, Adrien should have been home several days ago at the latest. He'd gone on a simple trip for business and left me at home for a few days. It'd been nearly a week since he left, and I was trying not to worry for the sake of the baby. Adrien had felt terrible about leaving me alone with the expected delivery date so close, but it couldn't be helped. He couldn't say no to his boss for fear of getting fired and I was in no condition to accompany him. I smiled as I remembered the day I'd told him I was pregnant. Poor Adrien had been terrified. Truth be told, he still was. He was convinced that our child would turn out to be some sort of monster…that it would be like him. When I found out that this was why he was upset, I was furious. I ended up not talking to him for nearly three days straight. He wasn't just insulting our unborn baby, but himself as well, and I wouldn't have it. It was indeed possible that Vincent could ended up being a shape shifter like his father. That would never matter to me. He would still be my precious little angel. Adrien hadn't mentioned his fears again after that for fear of upsetting me, but I could still tell that he was worried.

"Where are you now, my love?" I murmured sleepily.

A knock at the door woke me from my sleep, and I rose slowly to answer it, making sure to grab a pistol off of the mantle as I went. Anyone who would come to the door at that hour of the night (morning, technically) automatically earned my suspicion.

"Who's there?" I called, my hand on the door's handle.

No one answered my call, so I cautiously opened the door a crack and stuck the gun out into the darkness.

"Is anyone out there? I warn you, I'm armed and I will not hesitate to shoot if you attempt to approach without speaking first."

There was no answer except for the mysterious creaking noise I'd been hearing since stepping close to the door. I slowly opened it the rest of the way, aiming my pistol at a strange shape as I became adjusted to the semi-darkness. Something was suspended sideways in midair over the porch by a bunch of rope. My eyes grew wide as my disbelieving mind slowly wrapped itself around what I was seeing.

"N-no….NO! ADRIEN!"

I fell to my knees sobbing hysterically. It was obvious that he had been dead for a while. The beautiful emerald eyes that had once bathed me in warm love were now cold, staring white orbs of nothingness. The blood that seemed to be everywhere was dried and cracked. Bones jutted out from his body at odd angles, and various cuts and bruises covered his entire body. Someone had murdered Adrien…and wanted me to know it. I silenced my cries with one hand and reached up to touch his face with the other. I recoiled at the marble feel of his skin, slamming my eyes shut to escape the sight of him.

"Oh, baby…" I lamented through my tears.

My head snapped up at the pet name, remembering that I had a real baby inside of me. If Adrien had been killed, what was preventing the assassin from coming after his wife? Nothing. I stood up and went inside as fast as I could, trying to think of how I could survive this. Adrien's body would unfortunately have to stay where it was.

"Forgive me, dearest heart." I whispered to the ceiling.

I grabbed our money from where we kept it stashed and headed outside, using the back door this time to keep from once again seeing my nightmares come true. I was thankful for the shawl around my shoulders that hid my frightened face and kept out the wind.

It wasn't far to town, but a pregnant woman can only go so far. I stopped to rest by the side of the road and immediately heard horses coming my way.

'I can't run away.' I realized in horror.

The horses came into view, carrying a carriage behind them at a fair pace. I lifted the pistol with a whimper as the driver stopped beside me.

"Mrs. Saulnier?" a familiar voice questioned in surprise.

I looked up and saw one of my friends slowly stepping down to approach me.

"Benjamin?" I answered in a hopeful tone.

He nodded and gave me a concerned look.

"What on earth are you doing out here alone at this time of night? Mr. Saulnier would be-"

His words were interrupted by an inhuman wail. It took me a moment to realize that it had come from my own lips, and that I was once again sobbing uncontrollably.

"Anisette!" he exclaimed, dropping all formality and rushing forward to grab my arms in support, "What on earth happened that causes you to go on in such a way?"

I swallowed my tears and forced myself to calm down, thinking only of Vincent.

"It-it's Adrien. He's been murdered, Benjamin!"

The man's face turned pale with shock.

"Are you sure? Who did you hear it from? It could all be some sort of mistake, depending on the source."

"There is no source." I replied numbly, "I found him myself. Whoever killed him wanted to make a statement. My husband's mangled body is currently dangling above our porch."

Ben looked as though he would be sick, but his arms held me steady.

"What do you plan to do?" he asked solemly.

"The only thing I can do. I'm going to run. If it were just me, I would let them come for me…maybe take a few out before they got to me. But I will _not_ let them hurt my baby."

"Where will you go? You have friends in town. We could-"

"No, Ben. I have to go somewhere they won't find me. There's someone who can help, but I can't get there alone. Would you help me? Please? I can pay you…" I said desperately, and reached for the money.

He stopped me with a gentle but firm hand.

"Don't. I'll help you, of course, but there's no need to pay me. I would never be able to live with myself if I took money from you."

I gave him a small smile as he led me to the carriage and helped me in.

'Thank heaven Ben keeps odd hours.' I thought as we started to move.

Sleep started to come over me, my eyelids drooping in exhaustion.

'Please, God, let this be more than sleep…please…' I prayed as I slipped into unconsciousness.

Sure enough, I woke up shortly afterward in complete emptiness.

"Erik?" I called shakily.

"Anisette?" a surprised voice replied from behind me, "What are you doing here? I thought-"

He paused as I turned and revealed my pregnancy, his eyes going wide then looking away in what I assumed to be embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, Erik." I said, reaching out to take his hands loosely in mine, "I know I said we wouldn't see each other again, but…Erik, I'm in trouble."

His head snapped up, eyes gleaming and hands grasping mine in determination.

"Tell me what you need."

"Adrien's dead. Murdered."

"Do you know who did it?"

"No, but I think they may come after me next."

"Then I shall simply come for you first." he said, squeezing my hands and turning to go.

I smiled at the fact that I hadn't even asked yet.

"A friend is driving me in your direction as we speak…Thank you, Erik."

He paused and looked at me over his shoulder.

"I will always be there when you need me, Anisette."

Two days later, the carriage stopped in the middle of the road.

"Move out of the way, Monsieur, or I promise I shall run you down where you stand." Benjamin threatened.

I pushed the shade out of the way and peered cautiously down the path. A man stood directly in our way, his form concealed completely by a large hooded cloak. I wanted to ask who he was, but didn't dare reveal my presence in case he was an enemy.

"Anisette," he called, "are you in there, my dear?"

Smiling in relief, I pulled the shade open completely and stuck my head out.

"Let him come, Ben. He's the one I've been looking for."

Erik approached and, without turning, spoke to him.

"Take us to the next town if you will, monsieur."

Benjamin grunted disapprovingly, but got us moving again after Erik had climbed in next to me and shut the door. I sighed and leaned against him.

"I'm glad you're here." I murmured.

He lowered the hood on his cloak and put an arm around my shoulders comfortingly. There was no one else I would have rather been with in those circumstances than Erik. If anyone could ensure my safety, it was he.

We were walking through the town looking for safe shelter when it happened. A pain unlike anything I had ever known ripped through my body, and I gripped Erik's arm in agony and fear.

"What is it?" he asked in alarm.

The pain passed into an ache, but still I shook, suddenly weak.

"The baby…something's wrong. It-It doesn't feel right." I gasped, looking at him in panic.

Another wave of pain hit as he said words I didn't hear. There was so much pain…it couldn't be normal to feel like this so suddenly. I drifted in and out of consciousness over the next few minutes. The only things I could sense were Erik's strong arms wrapped around me protectively as he carried me, his honeyed voice floating toward me through the misery. I struggled to clear my head as he put me down.

"You'll want to wait in the other room." a voice said, "This won't be pretty, and she needs some privacy."

"Of course." Erik replied, and turned to leave.

I shot out my hand and grabbed onto his arm with all of my strength.

"Don't you dare leave me alone." I panted through tears of fear.

He stared at me indecisively, then reached up and fixed it so that his cloak fell from above. Satisfied with the makeshift screen, he sat next to me and took my hand. Moments later I screamed and gripped it. He simply returned the pressure, letting me know that he wasn't going anywhere.

I was half conscious when I felt it. Something inside of me just…broke. The pain I had felt before was nothing like what I experienced in that moment. I tried to scream, but found I couldn't take a breath. Erik was saying my name, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't answer him.

"She's not breathing!"

"I don't know what happened. It's like something the baby did has caused all of her organs to shut down."

'It felt like the energy of the sun exploded through my body…' I thought as the darkness began to swallow me.

"I don't care for your explanations, doctor, just _do_ something!" Erik snapped.

"I can't. I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do."

"_No! Anisette!_"

I could feel his hands cupping my face in desperation.

"Please...no…" he whispered.

He sounded so completely broken. I wanted to return to him, to open my eyes…but I didn't know how…And something told me I was slipping away.

"The baby…not breathing…dead…"

Those were the last words I heard before everything went silent. My very soul screamed at the meaning. I knew I was dead now, but that didn't bother me. But Vincent…my little Vinny…he hadn't made it either…hadn't even taken his first breath of air.

"She's coming around!"

I started at the unexpected voice and opened my eyes, confused as to where I was and what was going on.

"Vinny?" I mumbled hopefully.

"Who's Vinny?" a different voice asked.

"Don't mind that," the first voice said reassuringly, "she's bound to be a bit confused at first. It has been a week, after all."

My eyes continued to focus and brought the fuzzy form of a doctor into view.

"Anisette? You've been in an accident."

'I wouldn't exactly call it that…' I thought

"You've been in a coma for about a week, but you'll be all right."

I groaned and forced my head to clear completely. I was in a hospital room. It was clearly modern-day as well, not Erik's century. I didn't know whether to be glad I was home or not. Either way, I had lost both Vinny and Adrien. But at least I still had my friends…and perhaps even Erik, if he ever went back to the house and found the diary. It would be hard, but I would make it with their help. So which one of my friends was here? I thought a little harder and recognized Katie's voice from earlier. With a very forced smile, I searched the room until I met her gaze.

"Hey." I said.

'My voice sure does sound strange…' I thought

"Hey there yourself." she said through tears of happiness, "How do you feel?"

I frowned. I felt…

"Weird. What's up with my voice?"

"Nothing." she said confusedly, "Why do you ask that?"

"I-"

I stopped and focused on her a bit harder. There was something quite off about her as well. What was it?

"Hey, Katie…Tell me the truth. Has it really only been a week since I left to go save Erik? It's been quite a bit longer than that in his century and I just want to make sure the doctor's not trying to-"

She looked at me worriedly and pressed the call button for the nurse.

"What's wrong?" I asked nervously.

"You must have been thinking about your fan fiction before the attack." she said quietly.

I rolled my eyes and strained to get the chart off of the end of my bed. It would tell me my correct age, surely…Anisette Rousseau, female, age 18. The realization of what that meant slowly sunk into my mind. My breath and heartbeat came faster. It couldn't be…I couldn't have dreamt everything…I couldn't…

"Who knew the parking lot of a bookstore could be so dangerous, eh?" Katie teased with a smile.

Something deep within me shattered...as I opened my mouth…and screamed.

***THERE WILL BE A SEQUEL SOON NAMED 'REACHING FOR THE LIGHT'***


End file.
